Blind Faith
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol Peletier and her daughter Sophia are trying to survive when the world begins to change and the dead are attacking the living. She finds herself without gas and stranded when a stranger offers her and her daughter an escape. AU/ZA/Caryl.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from The Walking Dead, television show or comic book series. All characters belong to the amazing creators of the series.

Summary: Carol Peletier and her daughter Sophia are trying to survive when the world begins to change and the dead are attacking the living. She finds herself without gas and stranded when a stranger offers her and her daughter an escape. AU/ZA/Caryl.

Blind Faith

Chapter 1

"Mama!" Sophia Peletier burst into her mother's bedroom on a balmy Thursday morning. She had a ring of toothpaste suds around her mouth and her toothbrush in hand. "Mama, wake up!"

Carol shot up in bed, her daughter's frantic cries startling her out of a dreamless sleep. Squinting in to the dim early morning light, Carol reached out, putting her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"Sophia? What is it sweetie? What's wrong?"

"Mama, the news. Come see the news." Sophia grabbed her mother's hand and started to tug on her, urging her out of bed. Carol followed her daughter down the hall to her room, where she had a little TV on her dresser that she was allowed to watch as she got ready for school.

"Go finish getting ready for school, baby," Carol urged, peering at the TV screen as a report spoke in frantic tones.

"But, mama…"

"Go on," Carol urged. Sophia sighed and hurried into her bathroom, poking her head out every few moments to get an earful of what the reporter was saying.

"…the CDC is urging people to stay inside. If you must go to work, take every precaution. Wear protective masks and gloves to reduce the risk for spreading germs. We are still not certain how this fever is spread, whether it is airborne or otherwise. Schools all throughout the country are shutting down as this epidemic spreads. All air travel is being delayed until more answers are provided. So far, hospitals throughout the country have reported a record breaking thirty thousand deaths from this fever."

"Oh my God," Carol gasped, covering her hand with her mouth. "Oh my God."

"Mama?" Sophia asked, walking back into the room, wiping her mouth off with a towel. "What's happening?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, but…let me call the neighbors. Maybe they've heard something." Carol hurried down the hall, and Sophia was right on her heels. She grabbed the phone and put it up to her ear, expecting to hear a dial tone, but it was silent. She tried dialing, and all she heard were a series of beeps. The lines were down.

She moved to the window and looked out to see neighbors frantically packing things into their cars as a line of headlights spread from their street all the way down to the intersection.

"Sophia, baby, go pack your overnight bag. A couple of changes of clothes, your toothbrush…"

"Mama, I'm scared." Sophia was twelve, but a very young twelve.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart. I'm here. Just go pack. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, ok?" Sophia nodded and hurried to her room. Carol quickly grabbed her cell phone off the charger and tried dialing the Grimes' number with no luck. She even attempted 911, and even that was a dead end.

"Mama! Mama!" Carol gasped and rushed down the hall to Sophia's room to find Sophia trembling and clutching one of her dolls as she stood in front of the television. "The dead people…" She was hyperventilating by the time Carol reached her and put her arms around her daughter, turning her from the sight on the television.

"…reanimating and violently attacking the living. We're getting the first glimpse of a corpse moving and turning on people in a county morgue. We're….yes…" The woman squinted and held her hand to her ear, concentrating on what was being told to her through her earpiece. "Yes, I'm being told there are multiple reports coming from all around the country that the dead are returning to life and biting…yes…biting the living." Carol's hand reached out and flicked off Sophia's television set.

"I don't want to leave, Mama," Sophia cried. "Let's stay."

"We can't," Carol cried, her own eyes wide with fear. "We have to go, Soph. Grab your things. We have to go."

Carol packed as much as she could into the trunk of her small Honda. She grabbed a case of bottled water out of the kitchen as well as all the food she could fit alongside the bags she and Sophia had packed. She grabbed her most cherished photos of her parents and of her daughter, and she packed them all in the car, praying that this was all a bad dream and that she would see this place again. This beautiful home she'd bought after her divorce, a place she could raise her little girl and make a new life for herself. This friendly town where Sophia had made new friends after switching schools after her mother won sole custody. The neighbors Carol had come to really appreciate and rely on in hard times. She couldn't really be leaving it all behind, could she?

She sighed and stood next to the car, watching as the congested traffic slowly drifted by her place, horns honking, people shouting, her quiet little neighborhood becoming something out of a horror movie. She pocketed her cell phone, hoping it might come in handy somewhere, somehow, and she slid into the driver's seat.

"Put your belt on, Soph," Carol murmured. Sophia did as she was told, rolled up her window and locked her door. "Put your earphones in, ok?"

"Why?"

"Just do as I say, alright? Listen to it as loud as you want. Just close your eyes and try to sleep. We'll be driving for a while."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know yet, baby. I don't know." She smoothed back Sophia's hair, and Sophia dug her iPod out of her pocket and put her earphones in. She gave her mother one more worried glance before turning on her music and closing her eyes.

Carol turned the radio on low and listened through static as multiple reports came through about corpses coming back to life, about them biting people, about those people falling ill with the same symptoms the corpses died of. Carol felt her stomach sink with each horrifying word she heard. Bombs were going off in big cities. Napalm was being dropped. The dead were coming back to life and killing the living, and it was becoming a violent circle of death.

She tried not to cry as the hours went on and the news became worse. One by one, the stations went silent, and by the time the sun set that night, there were no more reports. No more voices. Just static.

"Mama, I'm hungry."

"Me too, sweetheart. We'll find a place. We need gas, and we'll stop and eat." Sophia put her iPod away and looked out the window.

"Where's the other cars?"

"The interstate was congested, so I took a state road." She peered around, noticing that most businesses along the way had their lights out. The needle was dragging dangerously close to E, and there was one gas station about a half-mile up with the lights on, and surprisingly there were few cars stopped.

"Alright, Soph, we're stopping here. You stay in the car, you hear me? I get out, you lock the doors. You understand?"

"Yeah," she said nervously. "I understand."

She pulled in at the station, edging up to the pump. There was a pickup truck at the pump ahead of hers with a motorcycle in the back.

"Don't stop here, lady," a man called, driving off. "The prick running the station's chargin' ten dollars a gallon. Leave it to these dumb hicks to go greedy the second the world turns to shit." The man drove off, and Carol got out of the car, shutting it behind her. She heard the lock click and hurried up to the door where a man stood beating on the glass.

"Fuckin' asshole!" he yelled.

"Hey!" Carol shouted, stepping up next to him. "What's goin' on?"

"He ain't turnin' the pump on 'til he gets ten bucks a gallon. Piece of shit," he grumbled, spitting on the door. The man on the other side of the glass just grinned a shit-eating grin and held up a pistol, running his hand along the silver barrel.

"Look Mister, I've got a little girl out here, and we're just tryin' to make it," Carol pleaded.

"Twenty bucks a gallon. Price just went up."

"God damn it!" Daryl kicked the door, and the sound reverberated, making Carol's shoulders jump.

"Daryl Dixon, your shitbag brother still owes me for that bad dust he sold me. You pay triple." Carol gritted her teeth, and she banged on the window.

"Please!" she cried.

"Forget it, lady," Daryl muttered.

"I can't," she cried out. "I got my little girl, and we're outta gas." Daryl looked back at the car to see the frightened girl in the passenger's seat. He turned back to the window and banged his fist against the glass. He leaned his head forward and grunted, finally settling for kicking his booted foot against the glass, leaving a slight crack.

"Dixon, you do that one more time, I'll blow your fuckin' head off!" the man warned. Daryl pushed off from the glass and turned back toward his truck.

"C'mon," he murmured to Carol.

"What?"

"You can ride with me."

"Are…are you sure?" She looked worriedly toward Sophia, uncertain if she should trust this stranger.

"I got half a tank. We can make it up the road a ways, maybe find another place where somebody don't know who my worthless brother is."

"Mister, are you sure? We've got a lot of stuff, and…"

"Throw it in the back. Hurry up. I ain't got all day." Carol thought only for a moment before deciding that given the current state of things, catching a ride as far away from this place as possible was probably the best thing for her and her daughter.

"Sophia, honey, come on," Carol called. Sophia climbed out of the car, and she hurried around to help Carol get their bags.

"Mama, who's he?"

"He's a nice man who's going to get us out of here, alright?"

"Alright," Sophia said with wide, worried eyes. Together, Sophia and Carol transferred their belongings and supplies into the back of Daryl Dixon's pickup truck, edging the items in around his motorcycle. Daryl started the pickup and revved the engine, glaring at the man inside the gas station. Sophia scooted into the truck first, sliding into the center of the bench seat. Carol glanced at Daryl as she climbed in the passenger's side and closed the door. Daryl took off down the road, and the three of them road in silence, wondering when the hell they were going to wake up from this nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I've had a couple of reviews telling me how weird it is that Carol just up and left home without any destination or sense of direction in mind. I figured I'd probably get that kind of response by at least a reader or two. That's kind of why I titled the story Blind Faith. She's just kind of taking a giant leap in leaving without knowing what to expect and traveling with a stranger. I don't think I'd be thinking very clearly if I found out the dead were getting up and coming back to life and eating people. I'd just want to get the hell away from people and drive. Anyhoo, here's Chapter 2.

Chapter 2

"Stay in the truck." They were the first words Daryl had uttered since Carol and Sophia had joined him in the truck. He pulled up to a seemingly abandoned gas station and parked at a pump. He reached under the bench seat and pulled out a shot gun.

"You're not gonna use that?" Carol's voice shook as she watched him.

"You wanna get out of here? You wanna save your girl?" He watched as she nodded, wordlessly. "I ain't lookin' to die like them folks at the morgue. I ain't lookin' to get over run when them sumbitches start walkin' the streets neither. I'll do what I gotta do, a'right?" Carol noticed the way his hand shook as it he gripped the gun, and she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. But, she said nothing as he slammed the door of the pickup and headed up to check the door. It was unlocked, and Daryl headed in.

Daryl peered at the man who sat on a stool behind the counter, his hand clamped over his arm.

"Mister, whatever it is you're lookin' for…"

"Need gas." The man looked out the window, out toward the truck.

"That your wife and girl?" Daryl said nothing.

"We're just tryin' to get the hell outta here. What happened to you?" Daryl made sure to stay back a ways. The man behind the counter smirked.

"Don't worry. Ain't catchin' unless you get bit. My mama got sick last night, coughed all over me, and I didn't get sick. Wasn't 'til I got bit." Daryl looked down at the bleeding wound on the man's arm. "Brother took sick. Died this mornin'. With all the commotion, couldn't get through to the coroner. Kept him in the store room." He nodded toward the body laying on the floor, head half gone from a gunshot. "Hour ago, he starts movin' around in there. I…thought maybe I was wrong and he weren't dead." He shook his head. "He came at me." He released the pressure a little, and blood spurted freely down his arm. Daryl winced at the sight. "Gotta shoot 'em in the head. They come back? They come after ya? Shoot 'em in the fuckin' head. Get 'em in the brain, and they'll go down." He groaned and turned toward the register that controlled the pumps.

"You need…you're gonna turn."

"I know that. Got me somethin' to fix that." He pulled a pistol out from under the till. "Just need a minute. When the fever gets bad…I'll do it. I just…I ain't ready yet." He nodded toward the truck. "You take what ya need. Get your family the hell outta this place." He pressed a few button on the screen. "Get goin' 'fore I change my mind." Daryl turned toward the door, and as he was stepping out, the man spoke again. "Remember. You gotta get 'em in the head. Not the heart. Not the gut. The head. That's the only thing'll kill 'em." Daryl nodded his thanks to the man and headed out to the truck.

Carol climbed out of the truck just as Daryl approached.

"Get back in the truck," he grumbled, looking over his shoulder as he put the shot gun in next to his bike.

"What happened in there?" Carol asked quietly, watching as Daryl removed the nozzle and began to fuel up. She looked over to see a pale, gaunt man watching from the window.

"He's been bit," Daryl murmured.

"We should…we should do something."

"Ain't nothin' we can do for him. He's already dead." Carol trembled as she leaned against the truck.

"There must be something…"

"You been listenin' to the news? Ain't nothin'. They get bit, they come back, they bite us, we die. I ain't gonna let that happen, lady." Daryl nodded toward the truck. "Get back in the truck with your girl. I expect she probably needs her mama right now, and you look like you're 'bout to fall over." Carol swallowed hard and nodded. She turned to get back in the truck, and he watched her, their eyes meeting briefly before she looked away and pulled herself back in, slamming the door behind her.

Daryl finished gassing up the truck, and then filled up a couple of empty gas cans in the back of the truck, and then they were off, heading to nowhere in particular just hoping to find some place safe to sleep for the night. Whatever was happening in the world, it didn't look to have an end in sight.

"Hey. We're stoppin'." Daryl nudged Carol's shoulder, and she jolted awake, gasping and looking around.

"What happened?"

"We're stoppin'. Stayin' here for the night." Carol looked around to see what appeared to be an abandoned motel. "You got any weapons?"

"No," Carol murmured. Daryl rifled through the glove box and came back with a pistol. "I don't know how to…"

"You pull this back and you shoot, a'right? You sleep with it under your pillow. You chain that door. I'll knock at first light." Carol nodded nervously.

"Okay." Sophia was still sleeping, and Carol gently roused her from her sleep. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Mama, where are we?"

"We're stopping for the night. We'll have a bed and a shower at least." Sophia nodded sleepily and got out of the truck. The three of them grabbed what they'd need for the night, and then Daryl pulled the truck around to hide behind some bushes. Carol eyed him. "In case looters come lookin'. S'dark enough they probably won't see it. No lights. Just flashlights unless you're in the shower." Carol nodded gain, feeling shaky and exhausted and scared.

Daryl broke a window on the office door and came out with two room keys, the old fashioned kind that fit into a regular old lock. He gave Carol room 4 and he took 5. As they walked to the doors, Carol reached out, putting her hand on his shoulder, and he tensed, turning to face her.

"Mr. Dixon, I just wanted to thank you for your help tonight. If it wasn't for you…"

"It's Daryl."

"What?"

"Mr. Dixon's my old man, and he's dead, so…"

"Daryl," Carol said with a nod. "Thank you. For everything." She cleared her throat. "I'm Carol." He nodded toward her and unlocked his room door.

"'Night," he muttered, stepping in and closing the door quickly behind him. Carol and Sophia looked at one another wearily. Carol wrapped an arm around her little girl's shoulder and opened up the motel room door. It was going to be a long night, but there was always the hope that by morning, this awful nightmare would be over.

A soft knock came to her door before sunrise. Carol yawned and checked the time on the bedside table. 4:25. They still had power, and given how still and silent the world around them had been in the night, she wondered for how much longer that power would still be there.

She moved to the door and looked out the peephole, seeing Daryl standing there. He'd pulled the truck around, and he looked all ready to go.

"I'm up," she called hoarsely to him.

"Five minutes," he called. "We need to get a move on."

"Okay." Daryl turned from the door, and Carol found a flashlight and hurried over to rouse Sophia. Within a couple minutes, they were both dressed and hurrying out the door, loading their things into the back of the truck. Sophia crawled into the cab sleepily, while Daryl and Carol spoke outside.

"I figure we keep away from the big cities. That's where the congestion's gonna be. Heard some choppers fly overhead last night." He looked around. "Dunno what's going on, but I figure it's better to stay away 'til this is all over."

"If it's ever over," Carol pointed out. Daryl chewed his lip nervously. He rifled through a pack in his truck and pulled out a box of donuts.

"Breakfast," he muttered. Carol nodded and took the box thankfully. A low growl from the side of the building startled them both, and Daryl grabbed something out of the back of the truck. A crossbow. Carol followed his gaze toward the bushes where someone was shuffling out from behind the motel.

"Oh God," she murmured. "Is that…"

"Get in the truck," he murmured. Carol found herself frozen in space, watching as this figure staggered toward them. Her hand shook as she turned on her flashlight and the light flooded over the figure, pale and bloody, eyes like nothing she'd ever seen before. A raspy snarl came from its throat, and it moved toward them, once a man named Kevin who worked in a garage, according to his coveralls, now a walking corpse.

Carol grabbed for the door handle just as Daryl let a bolt fly from the crossbow. She gasped as the arrow hit the body dead center in the eye. It fell to the ground, still, silent, dead as it should have been before.

"Jesus," Daryl muttered, moving toward it.

"Daryl, don't!"

"S'alright," he murmured. He pulled the arrow out of the eye socket, bringing blood and other disgusting things along with it. He wiped the sticky substance on the figure's coveralls and loaded the bolt back in the crossbow. Looking around, he saw no signs of more of these walking corpses, so he shoved his crossbow in the back of the pickup and climbed in. Carol took one last look at the body on the ground before climbing in the passenger's side.

"What was that?" she breathed, as Sophia looked from her to Daryl with concern.

"Gotta get 'em in the head," he grimaced. "Let's get out of here."

"What about a hospital?" Sophia suggested sometime around noon.

"Hospitals are filled with dyin' people. Dyin' people means future…whatever the hell we call 'em." They'd managed to catch a brief radio report about somebody passing away of natural causes, only to come back to life and start attacking. Whatever the hell was going on, there was a good possibility that it could happen to anyone.

"Walkers," Carol murmured, staring out the window of the pickup truck.

"What's that?" Daryl asked, glancing at Carol from across the cab. Carol shrugged, her eyes unemotional, tired, drained of life. She looked defeated.

"They die. They get up. They kill. They walk. Walkers." She looked at him briefly before turning to stare back out the window. Sophia rested her head on her mother's shoulder.

"What about a school? Or a…"

"School's the first place folks would go. Big. Lots of space to spread out. Probably setting up emergency shelters there anyway. Sorry, kid, but we're probably safer to stay away from places like that."

"Maybe a gated community?" Carol offered.

"We could try," he said quietly, "but if there's one thing I know 'bout gated communities, they want to keep the bad shit out, so when the shit really hits the fan, I'm sure they ain't gonna welcome newcomers with open arms."

"You're probably right," Carol murmured. "But we can't just…drive until the gas runs out. We have to survive." She eyed Daryl, who was staring intently at the road. "We have to find a place to stay. A place we can rest and…and hide. I don't think this thing's just going to blow over." She leaned back in the seat and ran her fingers through her short hair.

"We'll find a place," Daryl murmured. "Maybe in the mountains. Somewhere there ain't a lot of people. This thing comes down on everybody, we stand a better chance being somewhere remote. We don't need these…walkers—whatever the hell they are—comin' up on us in the night. We gotta get to high ground."

"So for now?" Carol asked, tears in her eyes.

"For now we drive and hope like hell we survive."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Can't we stop?" Carol asked tiredly as she pulled her arm around Sophia's shoulder.

"Not here. We stop here, anybody could come along and take the truck, take our supplies. We'll go on up a ways, find a country road. We'll stop back there. We gotta stay away from town." He fumbled with the knob on the radio, getting nothing but static.

"If we get closer to a bigger city, we might pick up a station," Carol pointed out. Daryl could hear the fear in her voice, and he slowed the truck a little.

"You wanna go to the city, we can go, but I ain't sure what we're gonna find. You gotta trust that the farther we are away from Atlanta, the better off we'll be."

"I'm hungry," Sophia murmured.

"Can we stop?" Carol asked, her voice quivering as she stared out at the empty road ahead. Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping he hadn't worried the little girl too much. But at the same time, it was going to be necessary to stay worried, because the second they let their guards down could be the second that killed them all.

"We'll stop," he promised. "Just wanna get up the road a ways." Carol noticed the way he kept looking in the rear view mirror, as if expecting someone to be following them, chasing them. She decided against asking him about it and instead settled back in her seat, handing Sophia a pack of crackers she'd picked up when they'd stopped earlier. Sophia gave her mother a thankful smile before tucking into the treat.

Daryl pulled off the old highway onto an old country road. It was hilly and quiet, and there seemed to be no cars around. Carol's stomach felt like a bundle of nerves coiling and tightening by the second, but she took a deep breath and tried not to show her anxiety at being all alone out in the middle of nowhere with her daughter and a virtual stranger.

Daryl cleared his throat and hopped out of the truck first. Sophia looked at Carol questioningly, and then the two silently slid out of the vehicle and joined Daryl behind the truck as he pulled down the tailgate and hopped in to rifle through the supply sack. He handed a bottle of water each to Carol and Sophia before retrieving one for himself. Inside a cooler was a bunch of half-melted ice with some cold deli sandwiches they'd retrieved at an abandoned gas station. They'd only be good for so long, they figured, so they might as well take them.

Daryl handed out sandwiches, and the three sat there in the back of the truck, eating a small lunch in silence. Every once in a while, Carol would glance at Daryl, who seemed lost in thought, his gaze concentrated and moving about their surroundings.

"You got any kids?" Sophia finally asked, looking up at Daryl with wide, innocent eyes. Daryl shifted uncomfortably and swallowed down a piece of sandwich.

"Naw," he murmured.

"Got a wife?" she wondered.

"Ain't got one of them either," he muttered. He took a sip of water and glanced at Carol. She caught his gaze for a moment before turning her gaze toward the road and finishing her lunch.

"Oh," Sophia said quietly. "I guess that's good. You don't have to worry about anybody you love getting hurt, then." Daryl gave a little shrug and hopped out of the back of the truck.

"We best get going." He cleared his throat and popped the last bit of sandwich in his mouth. He was the first back into the cab of the truck, and Sophia glanced at her mother.

"Did I say something wrong, Mama?"

"No, honey. I just don't think Mr. Dixon—Daryl—likes to talk much." Sophia nodded.

"We're not gonna die, are we?" Her daughter's lower lip trembled, and her eyes welled with tears, and Carol pulled her into a loving hug.

"I'm gonna do everything I can to keep you safe, you hear me? You're gonna be ok. We're gonna be ok." Sophia nodded, and Carol kissed the top of her head. "Come on. You ready?"

"Yeah," Sophia whispered. Carol gave her a brave smile and nodded.

"Let's get out of here, huh?" Sophia nodded, and she followed her mother around to the front of the truck and slid in next to Daryl. Within moments, they were pulling back out on the old highway and continuing on their journey, hoping somewhere along the way they'd find some answers.

The truck ran out of gas just before sunset. Daryl filled up the tank using the gas cans in the back of the truck, and then he'd ended up siphoning gas out of an abandoned car on the highway to replace his reserves. It was getting cold and a fog was settling in, making visibility particularly bad. So, they'd stopped at the first place they could find, a little house off the highway. The front door had been unlocked, and the television was still on in the living room, only it was static instead of a program.

Daryl had checked the house first, and when he'd deemed it safe, he'd motioned for Carol and Sophia to get out of the truck and join him inside. He pulled the truck around the back of the house to keep it out of sight should any looters come down the highway that night.

"Dunno how long the electricity's gonna be on," Daryl murmured, clicking on the mouse of a computer in the corner. The server was down, and he figured the whole existence of the Internet would be a distant memory within a week or two. He powered it down and pulled down all the shades in the living room.

"Same as last night. No lights unless we need 'em. Don't need to draw no attention to ourselves." Carol nodded.

"Sophia, why don't you take a change of clothes to the bathroom and get yourself a shower?" Sophia nodded and did as her mother asked. For all they knew, tonight might be their last opportunity to have hot water and electricity for a long time. Maybe for the rest of their lives.

"Try the radio," Daryl said with a nod in the direction of a high-tech radio on a table near Carol. She pressed the power button and moved the knob around, hearing nothing but static. With a sigh, she turned it off, and Sophia came rushing down the hall.

"Mama, Mr. Dixon, come quick!" The two rushed down the hall after her, following her into a little office in the back. On one of the tables was what looked like a CB radio, and a male voice was speaking over it.

"Anyone out there? This is Sheriff Rick Grimes. I'm asking if anybody can hear this transmission." Carol and Daryl stared at the machine for a moment before Carol reached for it.

"Hello? Yes! We hear you!"

"Who's this?"

"My name's Carol. Sheriff, what's happening?"

"Atlanta's burning. Don't go to Atlanta." Carol gripped the walkie, her hand shaking. "It's not viral. Can't catch it. Shoot 'em in the head. They get up, you shoot 'em in the head." Daryl grabbed the walkie from Carol.

"Where you at, Sheriff?"

"'Bout twenty miles outside Atlanta. We got a camp set up. About twenty of us. There were thirty, but we were attacked."

"Mama," Sophia whimpered.

"Sophia, it's alright," Carol murmured, hugging her daughter and stroking her hair. "It's gonna be alright. We're gonna be alright." Sophia trembled as her mother held her, and Carol and Daryl's eyes met.

"No cure?" Daryl asked.

"Last transmission I picked up from the station…they said the CDC had fallen. It's lost. Godspeed to you folks." The transmission faded out.

"Sheriff? Sheriff!" Nothing. Carol ushered Sophia into the bathroom and returned, her hand rubbing the back of her neck.

"There's really nothing we can do, is there?" she asked softly. "It's hopeless."

"We're still breathin' ain't we? Ain't hopeless. Not yet." Daryl tried switching channels to see if he could reach someone else, but all he got was static. Carol paced nervously for a moment.

"We could stay here. We could…just stay here for a few days and wait it out."

"Maybe," Daryl said with a thoughtful nod. "But we stay here, and they could come to us. We keep movin', maybe…"

"They're going to be everywhere. If what Sheriff Grimes said was true, there's no escaping it."

"Then we fight," Daryl muttered. "We find a place that's got walls. We just fight and try not to die." He left the room, stalking down the hall toward the kitchen. Carol followed him.

"Daryl?" she asked.

"What?" He sat down at the kitchen table and stared at her as she leaned against the doorway.

"Sophia's just a child," she murmured. "She's been…she's been through so much, and I just want to keep her safe. I need to keep her safe."

"'Course you do. She's your girl," he murmured. "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you. Or her. Not if I can help it." He fan his fingers through his short hair and looked up toward the ceiling. "We stay here a couple days, three tops. Then we get moving."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "We can…we can make some sort of plan." She sat down across from him. "When I heard the news, I panicked. Everything went…numb. I just kind of went on autopilot and started packing. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what to do. I just knew. I _knew_ I had to take my daughter and run, because my gut told me that that everything was falling apart around me, and I didn't want to be there right in the middle of it when it was happening."

"You done good. You done right for your girl. That's all you can do," he murmured. "That's smart."

"The smart thing to do would have been to…to…"

"To what? This ain't ever happened before. You went with your gut, and you're still alive. I'd say ya did the right thing." Carol sighed and shook her head.

"What is the right thing? The world's chaos. Everything's…"

"A mess," Daryl muttered. Carol nodded her head.

"Yeah." She swallowed hard. "This can't be…_it_ can it? The…the end of times."

"We're still here," he shrugged. "Ain't the end for us." Carol considered that for a moment, watching the way he drummed his fingers on the table. She glanced over at the kitchen counter where a nice, fancy coffee maker sat just waiting to be used.

"You like coffee, Daryl?"

"I could use a cup," he admitted. She gave him a weak smile and nodded her head.

"Yeah. Me too." Carol got up and went about making a pot of coffee, and Daryl watched the way she moved about the room like it was her own home. He didn't know her. She didn't know him. They were two people, three including Sophia, that were stuck together as the world was thrown into chaos. They had nowhere to go, didn't know what the hell to do, and all they had was each other. Tonight, in this little house, they had the dim light above the stove and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to hold them until morning, though Daryl could feel it. The last strands of the world they were knew were hanging by a frayed thread. Everything they'd ever known was about to be lost forever.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A month had passed since what seemed to be the end of the world. Carol, Daryl and Sophia had stayed at the little house off the old highway for only two nights before a raiding party had nearly come across them in the night. After a sleepless night, they'd packed up and headed off, up into the mountains. They'd found a cabin that seemed to be pretty remote and had a well which they could draw water from. To be safe, Carol boiled it before using it for drinking or cooking.

The nearest neighboring home was a mile down the mountain, and Daryl was often gone during daylight hours, hunting with his crossbow and bringing home squirrels and the occasional rabbit, which Carol prepared without hesitation.

They'd had no problems with walkers yet, but they often heard gunshots through the night from down the mountain which meant that people were still alive and fighting like hell to survive, as they had been doing. But Daryl warned Carol and Sophia not to stray too far from the cabin when he was gone, and if they saw any sign of walkers, they were to run. Daryl left a pistol behind for Carol, but so far, she hadn't had to use it.

Electricity had fizzled out a week ago. There was no radio. There was no television. There were simply three people keeping quiet in a cabin and trying not to draw attention to themselves.

One particular morning, Daryl was grabbing his hunting gear from the back of his truck when Carol stepped outside. The morning was cool, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.

"What you doin' up this early?" he asked, squinting into the sunlight as he stared up at the porch.

"I want you to teach me how to shoot. How to hunt," Carol said quietly. Daryl eyed her. "What if something happens to you? I want to know how to take care of myself. How to provide for Sophia." Daryl considered this for a moment before nodding.

"A'right. Today?"

"Yeah. Let me go wake Sophia. We'll join you." Daryl nodded and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. Carol turned to head back into the house, not noticing he was watching her walk away.

In all honesty, Daryl Dixon was a man of few words, but a look or a stare spoke more than some words ever could. Over the past few weeks, she'd grown accustomed to the quiet around the dinner table. Sophia seemed to be a bit intimidated by him, and to be honest, she was too. She didn't fear him, but there was so much about him she didn't know. They didn't talk about the past. They just talked about the present and what they needed to survive.

"Thing you gotta remember 'bout firin' a gun is that you gotta breathe. Aim and breathe." Carol nodded, holding the gun awkwardly in her hands. Daryl shook his head. "Nope. Gotta hold it like this." He showed her, holding his own gun. She didn't quite have it.

Sticking his gun in the waistband of his pants, he moved behind Carol, his hands moving down her arms as he pressed against the back of her. She tensed at the feeling, but when his hands moved over hers, she relaxed a little.

"Like this. Hold it like this. Breathe and squeeze the trigger." Carol did just as he instructed, and when she squeezed the trigger, the bang went off. Sophia covered her ears at the sound, and Carol watched with fascination as the bullet hit the tree they were using as target practice.

"Like that?"

"Yeah," he murmured, clearing his throat and moving away from her. She turned to see that his cheeks were a little red. It was a cool morning, but she couldn't help but wonder if he was blushing.

"That's about all the shootin' for today. Don't wanna give away our spot. You wanna try tomorrow, kid?" Daryl asked. Sophia's brows rose, and she looked to her mother.

"Can I, Mama?" Carol looked back and forth between Daryl and Sophia. She'd never really cared much for guns. Ed had one, and she'd kept on him about keeping it locked up so Sophia wouldn't be able to get to it when she was little. But now, the world was changing, and knowing how to shoot a gun was going to be a big key to survival. She wanted Sophia to have every advantage.

"I suppose that's alright," Carol said quietly. "Under Daryl's supervision. I don't want you playing with it like a toy."

"I won't, Mama. I promise," Sophia said, hugging her around the middle.

"Tomorrow then," Daryl said with a nod. "C'mon, let's get back to the house." They" turned to head back up to the house, which was about a mile away. Daryl had wanted to try and stay away from the cabin, just in case walkers were nearby and heard the gunshots. He didn't want to draw any attention, as he'd discovered about a week ago that they were attracted to sound.

Sophia walked up ahead a little bit, and Carol hung back with Daryl.

"She's doin' better?" Daryl asked, nodding toward Sophia.

"Yeah," Carol said with a nod. "I think so." The first couple of weeks were rough for Sophia. The poor child was terrified of the world around her, and she'd had horrible dreams that Carol often woke her from because she couldn't take the sound of her daughter crying in her sleep. "She's been through a lot," Carol explained. Daryl eyed her for a moment, as if urging her to continue. "Her dad and I got divorced a couple of years ago. He tried to fight me for custody, and Sophia was caught in the middle. He lost, of course, but it brought out a very…very bad side in him. Sophia didn't want anything to do with him at all last year. Maybe I could have encouraged her to spend more time with him, but I guess I preferred having her close to me, you know?" Carol sighed heavily. "Ed wasn't really there when she was growing up. He was a business man. He wasn't really family-oriented. He only wanted custody of her because he knew it would hurt me. The sad part is that I think…I think she knew that."

"Kids can come back from anything. Believe me." He kicked at the dirt as he walked. "S'long as you keep breathin', you can come back from anything." Carol eyed him, seeing the way his head hung a little lower and the way he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he spoke. In that moment, he very much reminded her of a wounded child, and she wondered what exactly it was that he'd come back from.

A scream from up ahead startled them both. Sophia was just about ten feet away, but the gap was too far for Carol's liking now. She and Daryl both glanced in the direction Sophia was looking, and a small herd of walkers—ten or so—were heading right for them. Sophia was panicking, and Daryl reached her first, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Shut up, you hear me? Calm down. You'll bring more of 'em on us." He grabbed Sophia's hand, and the girl, startled and a little wounded by Daryl's harshness, calmed for a moment. Carol reached them both, and she took Sophia's other hand. "We can't lead 'em to the cabin," Daryl breathed.

"The woods," Carol murmured. "Lead 'em further in and put 'em down." Daryl looked from her to the group of walkers for a moment before nodding his head.

"Works for me," he muttered. "C'mon. Keep up." The three of them took off into the woods as the snarls and moans of walkers bounced off the trees, echoing so loudly around them that it sounded as if they were surrounded.

They picked up the pace a bit, and Sophia stumbled, falling. Breaking down in tears, the little girl struggled to get up.

"Come on, sweetheart," Carol urged, helping her daughter up. Sophia shook her head, her cheeks red, and her breaths coming out in quick, sharp puffs.

"I can't," she cried. Without hesitation, Daryl hoisted Sophia up into his arms, and he nodded to Carol.

"I got you," he assured her. Carol felt the tears well up in her eyes, and she nodded a quick thanks before they rushed off again, hoping to lure the walkers far enough away that no stragglers would be able to make their way to the cabin in the mountains that she had begun to call home.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sophia was pretty silent for the rest of the afternoon. After they'd lured the walkers deeper into the woods, Daryl had helped Sophia up into a tree to hide while he and Carol worked at picking off the walkers one by one. Carol got a few good shots in, but she felt more comfortable using a knife. She took down three pretty easily, and Daryl used his crossbow to help finish off the rest.

They'd had a long walk back to the cabin, and Sophia stayed close by her mother. She wouldn't look at Daryl, and she stared at the ground as she walked back. Carol glanced in Daryl's direction from time to time, and his hand was taut around his crossbow, and his eyes were focused on their surroundings.

When Sophia sniffled, Carol gently rubbed her back, and the girl looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. Carol simply kissed the top of her head and hugged her, letting her know it was all going to be ok, even though she wasn't entirely certain that was true.

Halfway home, Daryl spotted a rabbit and killed it for dinner. Sophia hadn't been too keen on that idea, and had looked away when he shot it with an arrow, but Carol had simply reminded her that they had to eat, and fresh meat wasn't always going to be easy to come by anymore.

By the time they arrived back at the cabin, Sophia disappeared into the small room in the back that she'd made her own. Her mother's room was right next door, while Daryl slept in a room down the hall.

"She alright?" Daryl asked as he and Carol worked out in the back yard, cleaning and skinning his kill.

"She will be," she said quietly. "She's…scared, Daryl."

"Hell, I know that," he muttered. "Look, I'll apologize to her for snappin' at her, but if she's gonna learn to shoot a gun, she's gonna have to not freak out every time she sees one'a them things."

"She knows that. I think she was embarrassed," Carol said softly. "Just give her some time. I don't think she's ready yet. Ed and I always taught her not to touch guns. I always raised her to solve things with words, not violence." Carol sighed and shook her head. "If only I'd known what the world was going to come to, I might have prepared her better for the bad things."

"You didn't know. Hell, this whole world's like a damn horror movie," he murmured.

"It wasn't before?" she kidded, a little smile pulling at her lips. His looked up, seeing a bit of a sparkle—a bit of life—in her eyes, and her eyes seemed so bright blue in that moment it was almost impossible. She swallowed hard, his gaze moving to her smile, watching how her whole face lit up in that brief moment. "You ok?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"You got quiet," she said softly. "Well, more quiet than usual."

"Nah, I'm good."

"I think I can finish up here," she offered. "I need to learn how to do this by myself, anyway." Daryl nodded.

"Keep your eyes and ears open. You see a walker…"

"I'll handle it," she assured him. "Go inside, get cleaned up. I pumped some fresh water this morning." Daryl nodded and headed inside.

The water was in a small basin by the sink, which made it easy to dispose of after washing.

He lathered his hands with soap, getting the dirt and grime off, scrubbing his fingernails and just staring at the suds as they slid over his fingers. He'd never particularly paid attention to cleaning his nails before, but these days he tried to clean up as best he could. He chalked it up to sharing close quarters with two females—their neat and clean appearances rubbing off on him—and not to the feelings that had recently begun to stir inside of him every time he looked into Carol's eyes.

He rinsed his hands in the basin and toweled them off before moving to sit at the table and count the ammo he had left. He had half a box, which meant that he was going to have to go on a run to get more. If a herd came across them, they might not have enough ammo to take them all out, and with Carol being a decent shot but still a beginner, he couldn't risk not having enough bullets.

He heard a creak on the floorboard behind him, and he turned to see Sophia standing in the doorway.

"You hungry?" he asked, motioning toward the cupboards.

"No," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. Still, she made her way into the kitchen, her fingers dancing along the countertops as she made herself as unnoticeable and silent as possible as she made her way to the stash of potato chips in the corner.

"Soph," he said quietly, hearing her breath hitch as she froze in place. "C'mere." She glanced his way, a worried expression taut on her brow. "You were scared. Sorry I yelled at ya." Sophia looked down, and Daryl waited for her to gather her words.

"All I could think of is messin' up and my mom getting hurt," she confessed.

"Your mama's gonna be alright. Hey, look at me." She dragged her gaze from the floorboards to Daryl's face. "You're scared. It's scary out there. It's ok to be scared. You just gotta be ready. When ya feel like you wanna scream, you gotta remember that they're gonna hear it. They're gonna come after you. You can't scream. You just gotta breathe and run. Breathe and shoot." Sophia nodded.

"I'm sorry," she said gently.

"Don't apologize," he said with a shake of his head. "Didn't do nothin' wrong. S'gonna be ok, Soph." She nodded and sighed heavily.

"I miss my friends. I miss my room." Her eyes were filled with tears. "I know they're probably all dead now. My dad, too. Just wish I could see 'em again. Even my dad." She shrugged a little and turned to leave the room. Daryl stared down at the bullets on the table and looked toward the back door, where Carol was just coming through with the skinned and cleaned rabbit in her hands.

"Might have this done by sundown if we can get a fire started." She motioned toward the fireplace in the large living room, and Daryl got up, putting the bullets away and heading in to start a fire.

Carol worked at making a nice stew with the rabbit and some potatoes she'd found down in the root cellar that weren't completely rotted. It might be the last decent meal they had for a while, but with a storm blowing and the temperature dropping quickly, it would be the perfect meal for the chilly evening they had in store.

Carol stirred the pot over the fire as Daryl tossed a few extra pieces of kindling into the flames.

"Gonna have to go on another run."

"What for?" she asked, a little worry rising in her tone.

"Bullets. Ain't got near enough. 'Sides, we're gonna need to pick up more guns, maybe some more knives. One for Soph." Carol eyed him.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He looked at her, a little bewildered by the sentiment. "You really looked out for her today." Daryl shrugged. "No, I mean it. You didn't have to do what you did. You didn't have to pick her up and carry her." She smiled a little. "You didn't have to take us with you either."

"Sure I did. Where else were ya gonna go?"

"We were strangers, Daryl. If you hadn't been there, well, I'm pretty sure Sophia and I wouldn't still be here now. You're a good man, Daryl. " She saw a blush rise in his cheeks, and she smiled to herself, stirring the pot a little more.

"We gotta think about movin' on," Daryl murmured after a few moments of silence.

"What?" she asked, giving a brief once-over of the place they'd called home for a while now.

"Ain't so sure we should be up here once the winter comes. It'll be harder to make runs."

"That's true," Carol said softly. "Unless we stock up?" Daryl fidgeted for a moment and stood, his boots scraping against the hardwood floor.

"That herd was too close today. Next time they could be here," he pointed out.

"Well we'll be prepared," Carol offered.

"Ain't enough preparin' if the next herd is twice that size. Just the two of us with guns? And Sophia?"

"We'll be ok," Carol said softly. "We'll make it."

"I gotta train her," Daryl insisted, looking to Carol. Carol sighed and nodded her head.

"You do," she said gently. "I hate the idea of it, but you're right. She has to learn. She has to. I want her to live, Daryl. I want her to survive, and if something happened to me…God..." She put her hand over her mouth. "She's my little girl, Daryl. If anything happened to her, I don't…I don't think I'd make it."

"Then nothin's gonna happen to her. I'll teach her how to use a gun. I'll teach her how to survive, 'cause she's just a kid. She's gotta have a chance."

"Thank you," Carol said quietly. He just gave her a little nod, and he turned.

"You're leaving?" she asked, standing and wiping her palms against her pant legs.

"Just checkin' the perimeter outside. Wanna make sure it's quiet 'fore we settle in for the night."

"Okay," Carol said softly. "May I join you?" Daryl eyed her for a moment, seeing the hope in her eyes. He couldn't blame her for wanting to get out of the house as much as possible, given that there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"Let me grab my jacket and check on Sophia."

"Lock up when ya come out."

"I will," she assured him. Daryl headed outside, and Carol rushed to Sophia's bedroom to find her tucked away in the corner reading a book.

"Mama?" Sophia asked softly, looking up from her reading.

"Daryl and I are going out to check the perimeter. Would you like to come?"

"Can I stay in?" Sophia asked softly.

"Alright," Carol said with a nod. "I'm locking up, ok? Don't go outside. Just try and stay quiet. We'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay," Sophia said softly.

"There's a gun in the bread box in the kitchen. You know what to do?"

"I watched Daryl teach you. I'll be fine, Mama. I won't need the gun." Carol stood apprehensively in the doorway for a few moments before crossing the room and wrapping her daughter in a hug.

"Love you, Soph."

"Love you too," Sophia said softly. "Go on, Mom. He won't wait forever." Carol sensed a hint of teasing in Sophia's voice for the first time since this whole nightmare began.

"Oh, you don't start," Carol chuckled, smoothing her daughter's hair back.

"He's nice, mama. I like him."

"Me too," Carol said with a nod. She got up and with a wave, headed out the door to grab her jacket and join Daryl. She felt butterflies in her stomach, though she repeated over and over in her head that this walk would be important. She needed to know what he knew should anything happen to him. She wanted to be prepared. That was all. That's what she needed herself to believe.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Carol pulled her arms around herself as they walked. It was getting dark, and the only sounds surrounding them were from the footfalls of wild animals in the woods. She shivered at how silent the rest of the world was. No garbage trunks banging down the street. No horns honking. No jumbo jets flying overhead. It was just silence. Wind and leaves and other sounds of nature. It was unsettling and peaceful at the same time.

"You cold?" he asked, peeking over at her to watch her hunch her shoulders a little.

"Not really. It's just…eerie," she said quietly. "Too quiet."

"Yeah. Hard to get used to."

"You know, back home, before all of this, I'd be putting dinner on the table, and Sophia and I would be getting ready to watch _Jeopardy_. We didn't usually get the answers right, but it was fun to guess." Daryl chuckled lightly, and Carol glanced at him. "What about you?"

"Dunno," he muttered. "Never really had a set plan. Kinda did my own thing."

"Where'd you work?"

"What's it matter?" Daryl asked. "That life's over now. No use talkin' 'bout it." Carol realized she'd struck a nerve. Clearly, Daryl Dixon wasn't the kind of man that wanted to talk about himself.

"You weren't married, were you?" Carol asked gently.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You don't seem…used to being around women."

"I been around women."

"That's not what I mean," she chuckled. "I'm guessing…you lived alone. A bachelor." Daryl rolled his eyes at the word. "Come on, can't you give me something? You know about my marriage. My divorce. I mean…"

"Why do ya care so much anyway?" he asked. "Tryin' to check the perimeter. Can't do that if you're yammerin' in my ear." Carol stopped for a moment, and Daryl continued forward. She narrowed her eyes, deciding not to be offended by his harshness, and she continued to follow after him in silence.

Daryl felt the back of his neck grow hot, and his mouth felt dry. His heart was actually pounding like he'd just finished chasing after his game. The way she'd been prodding him with questions had made him uncomfortable, and he felt bad about snapping at her, because clearly she'd meant no harm, but he'd never been the kind of guy people cared to get to know. He'd never been the kind of guy that people were genuinely curious about. Then again, of course, for all he knew, he and Carol and Sophia were the only people left alive. She didn't have anybody else to talk to, he figured, bitterly. So now he felt worse about snapping at her, but he wasn't the kind of guy who had ever been able to just open up and talk to someone like that.

Carol watched the way he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and stuffed his hands into his pockets. She figured he'd be kicking rocks out of the way if he wasn't trying so hard to be quiet. She noticed the way the wind swept his hair into his eyes, and her gaze shifted along his profile, noticing the way his jaw was set tensely and he seemed to be chewing the inside of his lip, trying not to speak, trying not to say something he might regret.

He was handsome. That, she knew. His eyes were an extreme, piercing blue that were almost hypnotic sometimes. He was strong, he was confident in his hunting and tracking skills, but he didn't seem to be too confident when it came to other people. It was charming, really, even when he acted a little bit like an ass when somebody—like her—started asking questions.

They walked in almost completely silence all the way around the area, and when Daryl seemed satisfied that they were safe for the time being, they headed back up to the cabin. Inside, Sophia had set the table and was already sipping stew out into small bowls. She looked a bit more cheerful, and Carol moved over to give her a hug before releasing her to finish setting the table.

Sophia excused herself as soon as her bowl was empty. She wanted to get back to her reading, and Carol wasn't about to keep her daughter from her favorite past time. As useless as reading might have been at that point in time, it was something that helped Sophia maintain a sense of normalcy, and she wasn't going to take that away from her.

"It's good," Daryl said, taking another bite of stew.

"Thanks," Carol said softly.

"You a cook or somethin'?"

"No," she said with a hint of a smile. "Just a lot of practice cooking. I usually make too much."

"S'alright. Stick the pot outside; keep it cold, we can heat it up for breakfast in the morning." Carol nodded.

"Sure," she murmured, having a sip of water to wash her meal down with. "More?"

"Nah, I'm good." Carol nodded and picked up the pot and carried it to the door. She headed outside and felt how the air had cooled considerably since their walk earlier. She shivered as she sat it down to keep it cool to prevent it from spoiling. She stood there for a few minutes after, feeling the wind slapping the side of the mountain. It chilled her to the bone, and she hugged her arms around herself to stay warm before turning to walk back to the house.

As she turned, she heard the raspy moan before she saw the face of the walker just inches from hers. She stumbled backward, startled, and her heel caught in the soft ground, twisting in an unnatural way, pain shooting up her leg as she waivered. Her heart thundered in her chest as she felt her body falling backward, a gasp replacing the scream she needed. She felt her body tense up and begin to ache the moment she fell, and as the walker moved closer to her, its dead eyes peering down at her in the darkness, she reached for her knife. As she tried to raise her arm to protect herself, a sharp twinge of pain had her crying out hoarsely.

The walker stumbled and fell over her, and she couldn't breathe, and she kicked at it as hard as she could, groaning at the unsettling feeling of cold fleshy hands gripping at her arms. Its face was just level with her neck, and she finally managed something of a scream.

"No!" she yelled out, plunging her knife into the only place she could reach, the walker's lung. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but her arm was pinned, she couldn't move. She tried pushing her weight against the walkers, to no avail, and she realized in that moment, she had nothing to do but wait for the bite, wait for death. Still, she continued to heave against it, not giving up, not making herself an easy meal.

When the walker slumped against her, face against neck, she thought that was the end, but when its body stilled against hers, she looked up to see Daryl standing over her, his eyes filled with anger and panic. He reached down, pulling the body off of her, and she could breathe again. Walker blood stained her shirt, and Daryl knelt down.

"You ok? You bit?" His hands moved awkwardly over her shoulders and arms, checking for any sign of injury.

"He didn't…I'm hurt but…I'm not bit," she choked out, tears stinging her eyes. She willed herself not to cry. She willed herself to be strong, but her lower lip trembled, and a few tears escaped despite her best efforts.

"Jesus," he murmured. "Can ya get up?"

"I twisted my ankle," she grunted, as he pulled her to sit up. "And my shoulder's banged up, but I'm ok."

"Here. Put…put your arm around my shoulder," he offered, grunting as she held on tightly and he helped her stand. She winced in pain as she tried to hobble along with him. "C'mere." He pulled her in close, and she inhaled sharply when his arm curled around her waist, and he bent to catch the backs of her knees, hoisting her up in his arms. She held on tightly, and he carried her into the house, depositing her gently on the couch in front of the fire.

Carol shivered and looked down at the disgusting mess on her shirt, and Daryl cleared his throat.

"I'll get ya another shirt."

"Thanks," she said with a weak smile, bringing her sore ankle up to rest on her other knee so she could try and unlace the boot. She gasped at the pain as she started to tug at the laces, and Daryl heard her cry out in pain as he walked into the room.

"Here," he mumbled, tossing her a t-shirt from her room. "This ok?"

"It's fine," she said with a nod. "Can you grab me a damp cloth?" He nodded and fetched it for her. Her hands trembled as she lowered her sore foot back to the ground. Daryl brought back a damp cloth, gently holding it over the fire to warm it a little before handing it to her. "Thank you." She saw the way he looked at her, as if he wanted to help, and she gave him a gentle smile.

"Can you give me a few minutes?" she asked, pulling at the neck of her damp, sticky shirt, groaning at the feel of walker muck on her skin.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he muttered, his ears and cheeks reddening. "Don't try'n stand."

"I won't," she assured him. He nodded uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck before he got up and quickly.

"Gonna see if there's anymore outside," he murmured, grabbing his crossbow off the floor next to the door and hurrying outside. Carol swallowed hard and pulled the offending article off of her body, grimacing as she began to wipe away the muck. It came off dark brown on her cloth, and her stomach lurched. She bit back the taste of bile at the thought that she was basically cleaning off the bodily fluids of a decaying corpse.

She wiped herself down, and when she felt confident that she'd gotten everything off, she pulled the green t-shirt on over her head and tossed the cloth into the fire. She considered the dirty shirt for a moment, deciding it'd be more practical to wash it and try and get the stains out. So, she tried to hoist herself up to make it over to the bucket where they tossed their clothes for washing, but one step had her crying out in pain. Daryl came in from outside just in time to see her fall back onto the couch.

"Thought you said you'd stay put," he scolded, and she eyed him.

"Yeah, well, I thought I could make it." She handed him the shirt, and he put it in the bucket.

"Sit back," he instructed. He knelt on the floor, and she watched as he nervously chewed his lip as his hands began to work with the laces of her boots. He took the boot off of her good foot first, and she wiggled her toes a little at the freeing sensation.

"You ready? Might hurt a little."

"Yeah. Just do it," she said with a wince, gripping the arm of the couch as he began to unlace the boot. To her surprise, his touch was gentle, and she didn't feel a whole lot of discomfort when he began to slide the boot from her foot. He tossed it aside, his fingers peeling back her sock to examine her ankle.

"You think it's broken?" she asked, as his fingers gently prodded the swollen flesh.

"Dunno. Gonna have to keep off it tonight." His eyes met hers, and she gave him a thankful little smile.

"You saved my life," she murmured.

"Wasn't nothin'," he muttered. "You'd have done the same for me."

"It was something," she said softly. "Thank you." Daryl felt his neck grow hot again. Her kind words and the way she was looking at him like he was worth something made his heart pound.

"You're welcome," he murmured, the words feeling dull and flat as he spoke them. But when he looked up at her again, her smile was widening. It was in that moment, that he realized that he was important to her. Somehow, to her, he mattered.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Promise me you'll listen to everything Daryl tells you, ok?"

"I will, Mama. I promise," Sophia said with a confident nod. The girl zipped her jacket up and stuffed her hands into her pockets.

"You stay close to him."

"I will," Sophia said with another nod. Most girls her age would be rolling their eyes at their mothers at this point, but Sophia's father had made it a point to give his daughter a brief swat to the face for rolling her eyes at him once. She'd never told her mother. It had never happened before or again, but she would never forget it, nor would she ever roll her eyes at her parent ever again.

"I'll take her in the truck, take her down the mountain a ways. I'm thinkin' that walker last night mighta made its way up after our shootin' practice." Carol swallowed hard and gave him a little nod, trusting that he'd take care of her little girl, because, who else could she trust?

"You need anything for the pain?

"It's not so bad," Carol said with a little shrug. "You two just come back safely." Daryl's gaze met hers for a moment, and she gave him a warm but nervous smile.

"I'll take care of her. Promise." Carol looked to Sophia.

"Sweetie, why don't you go get some gloves? I have some in one of my bags back there. The temperature drops so quick up here sometimes." Sophia gave her mother a nod and headed off to get her gloves. "Oh, I hate this." Daryl sat down on the coffee table, watching as Carol tried to steady her nerves by taking a few deep breaths. "My little girl's going to learn how to shoot a gun so she can…kill…"

"Walkers. They ain't people, Carol."

"I know. I know that. They have to be put down. I just…" She shook her head. "The idea of my little girl out there—my baby—shooting guns. I never thought I'd see the day."

"It's gonna be alright. She's gotta know. She's gotta protect herself in case…"

"In case we can't," Carol said gently. Daryl gave her a solemn nod.

"I'll keep her safe." Carol nodded at him, and Sophia came back into the room from the back of the cabin.

"I'm ready," she said a bit hesitantly. Carol held her arm out, and Sophia moved to give her a hug.

"I love you," Carol said softly.

"I love you too," Sophia replied. "Don't worry." Carol nodded and gave her daughter another squeeze before letting her go.

"Please be back before dark."

"We will. Might even bag us some supper on the way. You stay off that foot."

"Yes sir," Carol said with a little grin, making him blush considerably. Daryl nodded to Sophia.

"C'mon. Best get goin'." Sophia nodded and gave her mother a little wave before following Daryl out of the house. Carol listened as Daryl's truck roared to life, and the grumble of his engine faded as he drove away from their cozy little home. She sighed as silence settled in the air around her, and before long, she was dozing off, her body mercifully letting sleep pass the hours until they returned home to her.

Daryl had driven Sophia down the mountain a ways, and they'd found a field to practice shooting in. He'd set up some old soda cans on fence posts for her to aim at, and the entire time he worked, his mind wandered back up the mountain to the cabin Carol was all alone in. He felt his stomach twist a little, and the back of his neck grew hot. Never in his life had he worried about somebody in this way. He'd never gotten close enough to anybody to worry like that before. Carol and Sophia were pretty much all he had in this world, and the idea of anything happening to either of them was just not something he wanted to think about. They needed each other. They needed people. Daryl had been prepared to walk through this new, dangerous life all by himself, and then she'd come into his life, and he'd had to completely change his plans. And he was ok with that.

"You gotta keep your arm steady," he murmured, turning back toward Sophia as she held the gun awkwardly in her hand like it was going to hurt her. "You gotta learn how to breathe and hold it steady. You gotta know the moment to shoot, when not to."

"When don't I shoot?"

"You see a whole herd of 'em comin' at ya? You run. You find higher ground or four walls and a roof. You got two or three of 'em, you aim for their heads, and you squeeze that trigger. You don't think. You just do, you got it?" Sophia nodded, her big, blue eyes wide with determination and fear.

"Can you teach me how to shoot your crossbow?"

"Uh," he muttered, "let's just get through handgun training first. Then we'll talk." Sophia sighed but nodded. Daryl moved behind the girl, his hands positioning her arms and steadying her. "Now line up your target. You got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay. Now you take a slow breath. Gently squeeze the trigger. Relax your body. Just keep your arms steady." Sophia nodded and took another breath, gently squeezing the trigger and emptying the chamber. The bullet snapped into the wooden post, knocking the can down but not hitting it. Sophia sighed heavily. "S'alright. Good shot. Try again."

Carol woke to the sound of the screen door's rusty spring creaking, and her heart nearly beat out of her chest. She scrambled for her knife that was tucked under her pillow and she sat up on the couch, her knuckles white as she gripped the handle. The door swung open, and Sophia came walking in first, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright, a smile plastered over her face.

"Hi Mom," she said with a smile, hurrying over to wrap her arms around Carol's shoulders. Carol gave her a squeeze and breathed a sigh of relief, her gaze moving over Daryl's face as he walked through the door.

"I'm glad you're home," Carol murmured, rubbing Sophia's back but never taking her eyes off of Daryl. He looked away, and she thought she caught the beginnings of a blush forming on his cheeks, but he ducked out of the room, and she smiled a little bit to herself. "How'd it go?"

"Daryl's going to take me back out. Both of us. When your ankle's feeling better. I hit a can off the fence post. He said my aim's pretty good." Carol smiled nervously at her daughter.

"That's great, honey."

"He said he might teach me to use his crossbow."

"That's a _big_ might, kid," Daryl muttered, coming back into the room, his arms bare as he wore only a button down with the sleeves cut off and a pair of comfortable jeans. Carol couldn't deny that the sight of his strong ,muscular arms made her stomach do somersaults and her heart beat a little faster.

"I'll get better with the pistol," Sophia promised. "You'll see." She sounded the happiest and most confident than she had for a very long time, and Carol couldn't help but feel relieved that Sophia was coming out of her shell a little, though the idea of her daughter with a gun terrified her beyond belief. "How's your ankle?"

"It's better. I took a nap, and the pain wasn't so bad when I woke up."

"Good," Sophia beamed. "Can we go out later and shoot some more?" She looked up at Daryl.

"Best save our ammo for now, a'right?"

"Okay," she said with a nod, a little disappointed.

"Why don't you go into the kitchen and see what you can find for supper?" Sophia nodded and did as her mother asked. Carol sighed when Sophia was out of earshot, and she shook her head

"I don't like this."

"Ain't too crazy 'bout it myself, but she's gotta learn."

"I know. She's just a child. She has to grow up so fast." Carol winced in pain as the throbbing came back in her ankle.

"Still hurtin'?"

"It's getting worse. I'll take something."

"Here. This might help." Daryl knelt down next to the couch like he had last night when he'd helped her with her boots, and he pulled a box out of his pack. "Stopped at a store down the mountain, and they had this. Thought it might help." It was an ankle brace.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know," he said with a little shrug. "Just thought it might help with the pain." Carol smiled a little. "You need me to...?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. It hurts to move it too much." Daryl nodded, and he took the brace out and gently slipped it over her foot and up her ankle. She grimaced in pain a little, and his gaze caught hers. "It's ok. I'm good. Thank you." Daryl nodded and stood up, wiping his sweating palms on his jeans. "You should sit down. You look tired."

"I'm alright," he shrugged.

"Just sit down." She hadn't expected to just reach out and yank his arm, but she did, and he tumbled back and fell on his ass on the couch seat. They both looked at each other, a little surprised, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry. I'm just…bored and need to talk."

"Talk about what?" he asked.

"I don't know. I just…there's not a whole lot to talk about at the end of the world." Daryl snorted.

"Unless it's about tradin' walker killin' tips."

"Or proper water boiling techniques."

"How to hide when the undead are tryin' to eat your face."

"Oh, that's a good one," Carol chuckled, feeling a little better now. It was good to have someone to talk to, and while Daryl wasn't a man of many words, he was at least opening up a little bit, and she felt like they could be friends. With a sigh, Carol leaned back against the couch, turning her head a little to look at him. He felt her eyes on him, and he felt his face growing warm. He turned to meet her gaze unsteadily, looking from her eyes to the door a couple of times before taking a deep breath and focusing directly on her. "Thank you for taking care of her today. She's a good kid."

"Yeah, she is. You done good with her," Daryl said with a nod. Carol's grin spread into a full smile, and she felt the flush fill her cheeks this time, her heart pumping hard in her chest as she tried to figure out what he was thinking when he looked at her the way he was looking. With a sigh, she found herself leaning in, unable to stop herself from scooting closer to him. She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turned just in time to catch her lips with his own, brushing ever so gently over them, feeling her warm breath against his mouth.

They both pulled back quickly, and Daryl's face turned a shade of red Carol wasn't certain she'd ever seen. He didn't move though. He sat as still as he could possibly get, and Carol, as stunned as he was, made the move and gently brushed her lips over his once again. This time, her hand moved to rest against his chest, and he opened up to her, deepening the kiss and reaching out to pull her in.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Kissing her was the best thing he'd ever felt in his entire life. The feeling of one of her hands on his chest and the other on the back of his neck as she pressed against him had his blood sizzling and rushing to a very particular part of him that he knew was going to get him in trouble if they didn't stop soon.

She felt his hands on her waist, and she pressed against him, her tongue dipping into his mouth, tasting him, gently stroking his tongue and feeling his hands twitch at her hips. The soft groan that escaped his lips was enough to pull her out of the trance she seemed to have fallen in the moment their lips had touched. The spark that had pulled them together had been the most powerful thing she'd felt in a very long time. Years, even.

With a soft hum, she pulled back, bravely dragging her gaze from his amazing lips to his deep, blue eyes. He opened his eyes, and for a moment, it was as if their souls met, reaching for each other. And then they realized they were still wrapped around one another, and Daryl shifted just enough that Carol realized she needed to back away. Just touching him was doing things to her, and she got a brief glimpse that it was doing things to him before he stood and stalked outside, leaving her completely overwhelmed, her pulse pounding at her throat.

She got up and hobbled across the room to the door, peeking outside to see Daryl leaning against his truck and taking a long drag off of his cigarette. Carol took a deep breath and decided that they couldn't have this awkwardness between them, not if they were going to be spending all of their time together. She decided to apologize.

She grabbed her jacket just as Sophia came out of the kitchen.

"Mama, what are you doing? Your ankle! Sit back down." Carol sighed and turned as Sophia hurried over and put her arm around her mother's waist. "Daryl said to stay off of it."

"You listen to everything Daryl says, huh?"

"You told me to," Sophia said with a little laugh as she and her mother leaned on each other and crossed the room to the couch. Carol lowered herself back to the couch and made a face.

"You're right. You've got me there, sweetie." Carol winced in pained. "What'd you find for dinner?"

"We have spaghetti o's," she announced.

"Perfect," Carol said with a little smile. "You can start heating them up." Sophia nodded.

"One or two cans?"

"Just one," Carol said quietly. "We need to make what we have last as long as we can."

"Okay. There's some jerky left, too."

"Sounds good, kiddo," Carol said with a nod. But instead of going into the kitchen, Sophia headed to the door. "Soph—" Too late.

"Daryl! Mama's hurting again!" Sophia turned from the door.

"Did you really just tell on your own mother?" Carol asked, brows raised, jaw dropped in faux disbelief.

"It's for your own good. Now you sit there, and I'll get dinner started." Sophia nodded firmly and turned back to go to the kitchen just as Daryl came in from outside, exhaling a stream of smoke. Ah, so that's what he'd gone to do.

"What happened?" he asked, crossing the room toward the couch.

"Nothing. I…it was nothing. I got up, and it was stupid, and…"

"You got up?"

"Well, I was going to go after you. I guess I forgot about the pain for a second." She managed a weak smile. The awkwardness had returned, and the tops of his ears were red. She took a deep breath and went for it. "Listen, I want to apologize. I don't know what I was thinking. She willed herself to keep his gaze. "I don't want you to think I'm…"

"You're sorry?" he asked, biting at his nails a little, a habit she'd noticed was almost as bad as his smoking.

"I mean, you…I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't?" he asked, dropping his hand uncertainly before deciding to stuff it in his pocket.

"I don't…I don't know. Did you?" she asked, moving over as he sat down next to her on the couch. She turned her head to watch his mouth twitch as he tried to think of something, anything to say. She watched his gaze move from her face to the fireplace, and then he looked at his feet. "I just…we kissed. I guess, I kissed you and then…"

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, which she realized was something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"Well, I'm sorry if I made things awkward between us." Her shoulders slumped as she realized she was completely at a loss. What did she say next? How did she fix this? She just wanted to go back, but she didn't want to go back, and now she had a headache.

"It ain't that."

"Yes it is. If it wasn't awkward, you wouldn't have gotten up and walked out the door to smoke a cigarette," she pointed out.

"I liked it," he muttered. "I didn't wanna stop." He was pretty certain he hadn't been this embarrassed in his life. _Just stop talking. Just stop. _

"You…" Well, he _had_ gotten an erection, but hell, she was likely the last woman alive on the planet, and he was a man with a penis, so she hadn't really thought much about it. "Oh. You…you liked it?" She watched as he rubbed his hands on his knees nervously. "Well, that's what I thought, but then you got up and left and…"

"I had to," he admitted. "I…well, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she said with a little grin tugging at her lips. "I can't read you sometimes."

"Welcome to my world," he muttered, a smile tugging at his lips. Carol licked her lips and let out a slow breath.

"Can I try something without you getting up and leaving?" she asked softly. Daryl tensed on the couch next to her but nodded.

"A'right." Carol took a deep breath and leaned into him, gently running her fingers through his hair before she stroked his cheek and leaned in, pressing her lips against his once again. She curled her fingers into his shirt, gently tugging him closer, and he moved his hands to her waist, tugging her closer. She sighed against his mouth, relishing the feel of being this close to another person, enjoying the sensation of him kissing her back, his tongue skimming along her lips, teasing her in the most exciting way. And then she pulled away, and he chased her lips with his own, not yet ready to end such a good kiss. But finally, he let her go, and she scooted over just a bit to give herself some space. They were both a bit flushed, and he couldn't help but crack the faintest hint of a smile when she bit her lip. Her nose crinkled just slightly, and then she was smiling back at him.

And then it happened.

"Are you guys done kissing yet? I really want to start dinner." Sophia peeked around out from the kitchen, watching as her mother and Daryl's faces turned the funniest shades of red. "Who's hungry?"

Dinner was quiet, and Sophia made no more mention of her knowledge that the two adults in her life had been kissing just a while ago. When dinner was over, she and Daryl helped each other clean up the mess, while Carol relaxed on the couch with her foot propped on a pillow.

Carol wiggled her toes and sighed, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that tomorrow, the swelling would be down and she could get around. She was growing very tired of the couch and just wanted to get up and move.

Sophia was the first to come back into the living room, and she moved over to the couch to give her mother a hug. Carol sat up a little, hugging her back, and she gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead.

"Good night, Mama," Sophia said softly.

"You're going to bed already?"

"I was going to read," she said with a shrug. "Don't worry, I'll keep the lantern light low."

"Okay," Carol said with a slow nod. "Soph?"

"Yeah?"

"Earlier…did you see?"

"You kissing Daryl? Yeah." Carol's cheeks reddened.

"Well, what you saw…that was…"

"Mom, I'm twelve," Sophia said quietly, cocking her head to the side. "And I like Daryl. He's really nice. Night, Mama. Love you."

"Love you," Carol called out as Sophia went off to her room down the hall. Carol sat up quickly, smoothing down the front of her shirt, running her fingers through her short locks, waiting for Daryl to return. Her nerves were coiling now, and she felt nervous and excited, and she was suddenly reminded very much of how she'd felt on her first date. Only, the first guy she dated hadn't been Daryl Dixon, hadn't had his amazing eyes, his kind spirit, his fantastic kissing skills or those arms. Suddenly she was imagining Daryl Dixon trying to grope her in the back of her father's station wagon, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked, walking into the room with a cup of coffee for each of them. She shook her head and smiled.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Thank you." She took the hot mug and sipped slowly, as Daryl took a seat next to her. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Carol put her mug down. "I can't sleep on this couch one more night."

"You want me to take you to bed?" The words were out before he could stop himself. Their eyes met, and Carol decided not to give him a hard time for it. She simply shrugged and shifted her weight on the couch. "Shit. Not…what I meant." Carol laughed and waved her hand at him.

"Help me up?"

"Yeah." He put his coffee down and moved over to help Carol stand. Within a moment, he swept her up off of her feet and started carrying her off toward the back of the cabin. She forced herself not to stared at his mouth for too long, because she knew that would only lead to kissing, which could possibly lead to other things that neither of them was completely ready for, despite what her body might have thought at that moment in time.

As his arms pulled her firmly against his hard chest, she tried not to think about those amazing hands of his touching her and making her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. She imagined what it might feel like to have him crawl over her and kiss her the way she really wanted him to, and suddenly, she felt a little weak.

"Okay, you can stop here," she said quietly, as soon as he walked into the room.

"But…your bed's over there."

"I know," she said softly. "But you…you need to stay over here."

"Okay," he said quietly, letting her down gently. "You gonna get over there all by yourself?"

"I can manage. You just…have a good night." Daryl stared at her, a little bewildered.

"You sure I can't just…"

"Oh, it's not a good idea," she murmured. "Trust me." He saw the fire in her eyes then, and he realized that she didn't trust herself not to take things further. She wanted him. _She_ wanted _him_.

"Oh," he said quickly. "Okay. I…um…I'll see ya in the mornin'?"

"Yeah. Good night, Daryl."

"Night," he muttered, watching as she hobbled over to her bed. He waited until she was sitting down and giving him a weak smile and a wave, before he quickly turned and left the room, closing the door and retreating to his own room to try not to think about what might have happened if Carol hadn't drawn the line that night.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Author's Note: A new reader brought it to my attention that I have an inconsistency between Chapters 1 and 3, in which Carol mentions calling Lori to find out if Rick knows anything and then having no idea who Rick is when they hear from him over the CB. I had meant to edit that bit in Chapter 1 about her calling Lori, because I came up with a different idea. It was a glaring mistake, and I can't believe I didn't edit it out like I thought I would. So to be clear: Carol does not know the Grimes', but they might interact later on. Thanks for reading!_

By morning time, Carol noticed her ankle felt much better. She was able to move it, and when she got up to use the bathroom, she was able to walk relatively easily. When she came back in the house, she noticed Daryl kneeling by the fire place, starting a small fire so they could make some coffee.

"Morning," Carol said softly, causing him to jump a little. "Sorry."

"S'alright. Sleep ok?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "My ankle's much better, too."

"Good. You feelin' up to a ride today?"

"A ride?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"I'm gonna take Sophia for some more lessons…if it's alright with you. Thought you might wanna go, too. Get outta the house for a while."

"Sure." She moved slowly across the room and came to stand next to Daryl as he knelt, stoking the small flames until they there was a nice, warm glow emanating from the hearth. He stood and nearly jumped at how close she was, and she smiled a little. Daryl was certainly jumpy this morning, but when she saw the way he looked at her, the way his gaze dipped from her eyes to the dip in her robe, she knew he was ok with that closeness.

She took a bold step toward him now, and she stood on her tiptoes to gently press her lips to his cheek. She felt him let out a slow breath, before he turned and pressed his lips against hers, reigniting the sparks from that very first kiss. Carol moaned softly when his hands tugged at her waist, bringing her against him, feeling the way his calloused hands came up her neck and framed her face, his tongue gently probing her mouth, as she opened up to him, her teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip when he'd begin to pull back, letting him know she needed more of him, and he happily obliged.

Her thumbs gently poked through his belt loops, and the pads of her fingers stroked over the skin just above his pants. His breath hitched in his chest, and she gently tugged at them. She backed up a little, and he went with her, pressing her against the door frame, the edge digging into her shoulder.

She broke the kiss momentarily, her breath ragged. She opened her eyes, dragging her gaze up to meet his, and a grin tugged at her mouth. He leaned down again, his confidence growing, needing to taste her, needing to feel her mouth against his. She moaned softly as their bodies pushed against one another. Her hands were in his shoulders and his neck now, pulling him in as deep as she could, her nerve endings scorching at the contact and yearning for more.

"Okay," she whispered softly when his hand moved down her back and somehow ended on her ass, "we should stop."

"We should." She wasn't certain if he was asking a question or agreeing with her, so she kissed him once more and pulled back, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.

"She'll be awake soon," Carol noted.

"Oh." He looked toward Sophia's room and nodded. "Ok." Carol smiled a little and reached for his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He watched as she turned and headed off to get ready for the day, and he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. She was like a drug. He just wanted more of her, and as she walked away from him, he realized he already missed her. He'd never felt his kind of closeness with a person before, and it was very new and very scary being vulnerable with a person, getting close enough to feel their heartbeat against his own. He wanted more of it, but a big part of his was anxious about the next step.

He swallowed hard and stuffed his hands into his pockets before heading outside to gas up the truck for their drive today. Mindless work, it might have been, but he was willing to do anything to try and keep his mind on anything other than the distracting, amazing feeling of Carol's body pressed against his, her lips against his, her tongue dancing with his own.

Sophia woke shortly after Daryl headed outside, and within twenty minutes, the truck was bouncing along the hilly Georgia highway down the mountain. Daryl bypassed the field he'd taken Sophia to yesterday, since it was overrun by walkers. A few miles down the road, there was a field that only had a few strays. Carol surprised the hell out of both Daryl and Sophia by taking a knife firmly in her hands and going after one walker, easily bringing it down with a quick thrust to the skull. The walker dropped, and Carol wiped her knife blade on the damp grass. When she stood, straightening up and heading back to the truck, she saw them both staring at her in awe. She smirked to herself and hopped into the bed of the truck.

"Daryl's turn."

"You just tag me out?"

"Yep. You're it," she laughed. She couldn't help but stare at his ass as he walked off, crossbow in hand and quickly put down the second walker, shooting it through the eye. Carol marveled at the way Daryl's muscles moved and twitched as he pulled the bolt out of the walker's head and wiped it on a red rag he had hanging from his back pocket.

"Mama?" Sophia asked after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"You were staring."

"What? No I wasn't." Sophia snickered and reached for the shot gun in the back of the truck. "Whoa!"

"I gotta practice," Sophia pleaded. Carol sighed and glanced to Daryl who gave her a little nod.

"This ain't like the pistol, Soph," Daryl said sternly. He moved behind her and helped her position the shotgun just right, leaning the butt of it against her shoulder. She took a few slow, deep breaths before squeezing the trigger, clipping the third walker in the shoulder. It reeled back a little but continued forward after a moment. Sophia sighed in frustration. "S'alright. Try again." She nodded and worried her lip between her teeth, narrowing her eyes as she lined up her shot. She tried again and got it in the jaw. It kept coming.

"Little higher, honey," Carol murmured, offering her support. Sophia tried again, and the walker went down. She practically squealed with delight, jumping up to hug Daryl around the neck. He stumbled backward a little, and his eyes met Carol's. She just gave him a little grin and shrugged her shoulders as he patted Sophia on the back.

"Thanks, Daryl," Sophia said with a grin, kissing him on the cheek. "_Now_ can I try the crossbow?"

"This kid's fulla surprises," Daryl chuckled, as Sophia made a grab for the bow. "Ah, no. No, you ain't ready for that. But your mama just might be." Sophia frowned in disappointment, and Carol shook her head.

"Oh no, that's alright. I'm ok with my knife here." Daryl handed a pistol to Carol. "I'm ok with this, too."

"Still need to practice, though. Practice makes perfect," he insisted, his gaze focusing on hers. She blushed a little and couldn't help but think about how each time they kissed, it was better than the last.

"Practice makes perfect," she agreed. "Alright." She got out of the truck bed just as another walker stumbled out from the tree line.

"You got this?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded, taking a few steps forward, extending her arms out, planting her feet firmly on the ground and aiming straight at the walker's eye. One shot disappeared into the woods, but the next took down the walker, leaving Carol with mixed feeling of pride and disgust in her belly. The idea that she was getting such a rush putting these things down worried her, and when she heard Sophia speaking quietly with Daryl about perfecting her shot, she spun around, feeling a little dizzy.

"Sophia," she said quietly.

"Yeah?" The girl looked to her mother, her hands tight around the rifle.

"I want you to understand that these things…they used to be people."

"I know that, Mama," Sophia said gently.

"Good, because we put them down because we have to, not because…"

"Mama, I wouldn't hurt a person," Sophia said gently. "But these things would, so we have to kill them." Carol let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Just don't shoot unless you have to. Don't get used to pulling the trigger, because if you get too used to it…" She wasn't exactly sure what was on the other end of that sentence, but Sophia handed the shotgun to Daryl.

"It's ok, Mom," she said softly. "Don't worry." Sophia gave Carol a little smile before climbing up in the truck bed. Daryl moved over toward Carol, his hand gently brushing over her shoulder.

"You ok?" he asked gently.

"I just…it's overwhelming, I suppose." He trained his eyes on her, waiting for her to continue. "My kid's playing with guns. And she likes it."

"She'll be alright. Rather have her ready for what comes next than not, right?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I guess she can't stay a little girl forever." Daryl gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Just 'cause she's growin' up don't mean she ain't still your little girl." Carol's eyes welled up at that point, and Daryl leaned in without thinking and gave her a gentle kiss. She gasped softly at his display, and he gently ran his thumb over her cheek. She leaned into his touch, but it was all too brief, as Sophia jumped down from the truck at that moment.

"Walkers!" she called out, pointing over at the tree line, where at least a dozen of them were coming out, most likely drawn out by the sound of gunfire.

"C'mon," Daryl grunted, hoisting the weapons into the back of the truck, "let's get outta here."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The truck rolled and bumped down the highway, and Carol gazed out the window as they drove toward home. Sophia had found some of Daryl's CDs in the glove box and popped one in. It wasn't exactly Carol's style, but it was something to listen to besides the wind whistling through the cracked windows and the tires thumping over pot holes.

Nobody spoke, but everybody kept an eye on the rearview and side mirrors, as if almost expecting the herd of walkers to be right behind them. It didn't make sense, of course, but it was simply natural to keep an eye on what was behind them, given that they'd left that field with a whole herd of walkers pouring out of the trees like wild animals.

By the time they reached the cabin, Sophia was trying to keep her eyes open. When they headed up to the house, Carol made her way over to the well and sighed, leaning against it.

"What's wrong?" Daryl asked as he unlocked the door.

"The water's low. And we're almost out of bottled."

"Want me to make a run?"

"It's not just that," Carol murmured. "We're running low on a lot of things. I don't want you going alone, not with those herds out there."

"So _we'll _go."

"Sophia's tired, Daryl."

"She ain't goin'," he said flatly.

"Why not?" Sophia asked. "I can shoot."

"Too dangerous, Soph," Daryl murmured. "Neither one of ya need to be gettin' out in that, but I know your mama can take care of herself. I don't wanna have to worry 'bout both of ya out there."

"I'm not letting you go by yourself. You're very good, Daryl, but they can sneak up when you don't expect them," Carol pointed out. "Sophia will be safe here. We know that. The house is secure, and she knows to stay inside."

"Standing right here, Mom," Sophia muttered. Carol turned to her.

"Are you ok with staying here?"

"I'm not a baby," Sophia said with a shrug. "I'd rather go with you and Daryl."

"Too dangerous. Can't be tryin' to get supplies and worryin' about you."

"I could stay in the truck," Sophia offered.

"No," Carol spoke up, "we need the room, and Daryl's right. No need to put you in danger for no reason. We'll be just an hour away, and we'll be quick. You'll be ok?"

"Yes," Sophia said with a defeated sigh.

"We're not punishing you," Carol pointed out. "We just don't want you to get hurt."

"Suppose you guys get hurt. Then I'm stuck here by myself?" Sophia considered. Carol and Daryl shared a look, before Dary's shoulders fell.

"We can wait. We can go tomorrow. Hit a town we haven't been to yet. Maybe there'll be fewer walkers," Daryl suggested.

"No," Sophia said with a little grin. "I was just teasing. You're right. You guys should go. I'll stay here and watch the house."

"You won't go outside?"

"I won't go outside. I won't make noise. I won't use much light. I'll read by flashlight and have dinner on the table when you come home," Sophia promised. "Pick up more spaghetti o's!" Daryl made a face, and Carol stifled a little laugh. "What? They're good?"

"We'll get yer spaghetti o's," Daryl promised, getting a hug from Sophia before she hurried into the house and off to grab her favorite book. Daryl shook his head, and Carol caught the exasperated look on his face.

"What?" she asked, a small smile creeping up on her face.

"Girls. Ain't never understood 'em when I was her age, and I still don't." Carol snorted at that, and she leaned in to press her lips against his.

"Well, you men aren't the easiest to figure out, either." When his hand ghosted over her lower back, pulling her closer, she giggled against his lips. "Well, _sometimes_ you are."

"Stop," he muttered before capturing her lips with his own again.

Carol spent a good fifteen minutes checking and double checking the locks on the doors and making sure that the windows that were boarded up were all secure. She made certain to pull the curtains over the smaller windows that weren't boarded, and she had Daryl make sure the pistol was loaded and where Sophia could easily access it if the need arose.

"Now remember, don't touch that gun unless you need it. You hear anything prowling around outside, you don't go to the door, even if you think it's us."

"What if it's a person?" Sophia asked quietly, drumming her fingers on the kitchen table. "I mean, shouldn't we help them?" Carol glanced at Daryl, searching for the right thing to say. She had always tried to teach Sophia to help those in need, but the world was a much different place now. Who knew what motives people might have. Right now, basic instinct was to survive, and this small family had managed to do that quite safely, but others out there might not have been so lucky.

"If it's a person, just stay quiet, turn the lamps down, and if anybody tries to come in, you hide, ok?"

"Okay," Sophia said with a nod.

"Are you sure you're ok with this?"

"Mom, I'll be ok." Carol sighed softly, her stomach twisting into knots. She was torn between needing her daughter to gain a little independence given the state of things and the inevitable fate that Sophia would eventually be on her own someday, be it a month from now or thirty years down the road. Someday, Carol knew, she'd die and her daughter would have to fend for herself. She just hoped it was more like thirty years than thirty days.

"I know you will, sweetie, but I'm your mother, and it's my job to worry about you." She pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "Come on. Let's go check the locks again." Sophia sighed with exasperation but gave her mother a little grin and a nod.

Their first stop had been a grocery store. They'd backed the truck up close to the doors for easy loading, and it was still light enough that they could keep an eye on their surroundings in case any walkers came around.

They loaded three cases of bottled water into the bed of the truck, and then they'd raided the boxed food aisle. Most of the boxed dinners required meat, but Daryl had tossed them in the truck, insisting they could substitute ground beef with squirrel or opossum or deer.

They piled as much as they could into the truck before heading down to grab a few items of clothe and some winter coats for the upcoming bad weather that seemed to be what Daryl was predicting. As a man who'd spent a great deal of his life outside, he seemed pretty certain that the winter would be unusually cold for a Georgia winter.

Next, they stopped by a drug store, where Carol set to work getting antibiotics and first aid kits and feminine products. Poor Sophia had just begun having her monthlies over the summer, and Carol couldn't help but feel badly for Daryl, who would be dealing with hormones left and right with two women in the house.

Carol marveled at the way she and Daryl could wordlessly move about each store and get what they needed with no hiccups. Just a look and a point would tell her where he was going and she could do the same for him, no words needed. The less noise the better seemed to be the motto on days like this.

Daryl was simply grateful that he had someone to travel with on runs. After they'd found the cabin, he'd tried to leave Carol at home as often as possible, not wanting to put her and Sophia in any kind of danger, but it wasn't long before she was pulling just as much supplies on their runs as he was. She never complained about it. She just did it. She knew what they needed, and she helped him get it, and they worked together better than he'd ever worked with anyone. The more he thought on it, the more he realized he'd never really gotten along with many people in life. He'd had relationships, but none of them had lasted. He'd never been in love. He'd never really had the happy home environment as a kid.

But somehow along the line, he and Carol and Sophia had become a family. And now things were changing between him and Carol, and while he liked those changes, the only relationship he had to base his off of was his parents, and that had been one shit storm nightmare after the other. He was determined he wasn't going to be as big of a fuck up as his old man.

As Carol grabbed some soaps and sanitizers, she caught Daryl eyeing the condoms and trying to pretend he wasn't. She chuckled to herself when she walked outside to load her armful of supplies into the truck bed. When she returned to grab some bottles of alcohol and peroxide, she noticed Daryl had moved on from the condom aisle, and she was pretty certain a couple of boxes were missing, but she wouldn't dare embarrass him, at least not until they got more comfortable with one another. The kissing was amazing, but so far, that was pretty much all it was, and her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of it becoming more, though her racing pulse and the ache between her legs pretty much made it difficult to think about anything logically when it came do Daryl.

"Think that's it," Daryl murmured quietly, coming up behind Carol. She'd made her way to the candy aisle and had picked up some sweets. She turned with a handful of candy bars, and Daryl smirked. "Sweet tooth?"

"Daryl, I've been eating wild animal for a month. You do understand that, right?" She gave him a grin and crinkled her nose. "Don't worry. I'll share." She turned and headed out of the store, and Daryl followed behind, unable to take his eyes off the way her hips moved when she walked. She had a natural, graceful sway that had him dizzy with desire, and he couldn't help but put his hand on her arm and gently spin her around so he could kiss her again.

She giggled against his lips and dropped her armful of candy before snaking her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer to him, sighing as his hands moved over her back and up her ribcage. He pushed her up against the side of the truck, his hands moving boldly up the sides of her breasts, getting a soft gasp out of her, as he accidentally—or maybe not—grazed over her nipple through her clothes. She moaned softly, and he moved his hands back to a safer place, though Carol was already panting against his lips as his hips pressed into hers.

The sound of feet scraping along the asphalt intruded on their moment, and when Daryl pulled back, Carol glanced over his shoulder to see a walker just feet away.

"Daryl!" she hissed out between her teeth. Daryl reached for the shotgun in the back of the truck and quickly took out half of the walker's head. It fell to the ground in a sickening thud, and Carol put her hand over her chest as she struggled to breathe.

"S'alright," he assured her.

"That one was too close," she murmured. Daryl gave her arm a little squeeze.

"C'mon," he said softly, noting the worried tone in her voice as she looked off toward the mountains. "Let's get home. Soph's probably wondering where we are." She nodded gratefully to him, and they pulled themselves into the truck. They were on the road in moments, an easy silence gradually overtaking them as they headed home to Sophia.

It wasn't long before the surroundings began to look more familiar, and they began the trek up the mountain toward the cabin. Carol felt content for the first time in a while, and she closed her eyes, smiling faintly as the sun bathed her face through the glass of the passenger's window.

Daryl turned the radio on, still unable to let go of that habit he was used to from before. Nothing but static filled the air, and he quickly turned it off. With a sigh, he pulled down the visor, shielding his eyes from the sun as they drove up the winding road.

The closer they got, however, the more unsettled Carol became. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight on the seat, her eyes darting back and forth at the land in front of them.

"You smell that?" she asked. Daryl rolled the window down and smelled the air. The faint hint of smoke hit him, and he glanced at her.

"Some patches of the woods are pretty dry. Maybe…"

"No," she murmured, as the trees thinned out and a column of smoke rose into the sky. "There." She pointed, and her hand began to shake. Daryl stepped on the gas, the tires spraying gravel and dirt behind them as he rushed toward the smoke with a sinking feeling in his gut.

The closer they got to the smoke, they more they realized exactly where that fire was.

"Daryl," she breathed, tears stinging her eyes. He grabbed her hand, not sure if to comfort her or to calm his own nerves, and he squeezed it. He met her gaze for a brief second before he pumped the gas pedal and tore down the dirt road toward the cabin.

What was normally the sight of a sweet little cabin cottage with a porch swing hanging from one rusted chain was now a haze of smoke with licks of flame darting out from between the boards that were hammered over the windows.

"Sophia!" Carol choked out, jumping out of the truck before Daryl had come to a complete stop. She stumbled but stayed on her feet, rushing toward the house.

"Shit," Daryl growled, throwing the truck into park and jumping out to run after her. "Stop! Stay back!" He reached her just as she was clamoring to climb up onto the porch. He encircled her in his arms, pulling her back against his chest. She fought to get away, so he held onto her more firmly, dragging her away from the house, her legs kicking the air as she screamed out.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she wriggled free from him and rushed to the front door, reaching for the handle before Daryl pulled her back again.

"You crazy?!" he yelled, pulling her back. "Stay here. I'll get her." He pulled Carol down so she was sitting on the ground, her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably as the smoke made her gag and cough.

He rushed up to the porch, grabbing the red rag from his back pocket. He wrapped it around his hand and tried the door. It was locked, just like they'd left it.

"Stay here!" he ordered. "I'll try the back." Daryl disappeared around the back of the house, and Carol's fingers pierced the soil, grabbing clumps of red earth between her fingers, her breath ragged as her lungs burned in her chest. She choked and coughed and felt a piece of herself die in that moment. She watched the flames reach out, trapped inside the house, trapped and scorching through the wood.

Daryl came running back around, coughing into his hand, his face darkened with soot.

"It's locked," he grunted. "Can't get in the windows." Carol said nothing. Her body was still now as she stared blankly at the house, watching it burn. Her lip trembled as the tears slid silently down her face and onto the ground. Daryl grabbed the shotgun out of the back of the truck and rushed around to one of the smaller windows, busting the glass. She heard him cry out as he cut his arm on a piece of broken glass.

He strained, pulling himself up, and she could see him struggling, and as it suddenly dawned on her that her daughter was dead and that going inside was just going to kill her too, she scrambled to her feet.

"No!" she screamed out. "No! Daryl, stop!" She rushed to the window, but it was too late, and he was already inside. Her heart fell, and she screamed into the blackness as she heard the popping and crackling of flames devouring the old wood in the cabin. "Daryl! Sophia! No!" She banged her fists against the window frame, and still he didn't come.

The black smoke swam out the window and surrounded her, and she stumbled backward, coughing, her eyes burning and her body weakening.

She fell back against the ground, her head spinning as she stared up at the dusky sky watching the smoke fill up the air and disappear into the clouds. As she felt herself losing consciousness, she heard a terrible crash as the cabin's ceiling collapsed, and her last thought as she slipped into complete darkness was prayer that she'd die right along with them.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Carol heard the distant sounds of gunshots beckoning her back to awareness. She felt a dull, throbbing pain in the back of her head, and the smoke filled her lungs as she took a deep breath, briefly wondering if she had gone to Hell as punishment for not being there for her daughter.

Another gunshot was closer, louder. She groaned, feeling her pulse in her ears and the taste of bile in the back of her throat. She coughed, and suddenly she felt hands on her arms, and then arms were wrapping around her waist and dragging her. She wanted to cry out. She wanted to fight, but she couldn't. She had nothing left in her.

"Come on. Come on. Wake up!" the gruff voice hollered. She felt herself being lifted, and she rested her head against a shoulder, but her eyelids were so heavy, she couldn't drag them open. She heard the sound of a door opening, and she suddenly remembered everything. Sophia. Daryl. Dead.

"No," she murmured, her head lolling back and forth against the shoulder. "Stop. Stop." Suddenly she felt herself being hoisted onto the seat of a car, and her eyelids fluttered open. It was dark. And the door was slamming. And gunshots were ringing out again. "Stop…" She fought to keep her eyes open, and everything was out of focus. She tried to pull herself up, but she felt weighed down like she was in a nightmare and couldn't get away.

Suddenly, the other door was opening, and the seat shifted as somebody slid in. The vehicle roared to life, and Carol thought for a moment about how it sounded vaguely like Daryl's truck. She sat up, reaching for the dashboard, reaching for anything that could help her steady herself.

"Had to dump the bike," he muttered. "Ain't no use to us now." That sounded like Daryl. She gripped the handle of the door.

"Let me out," she cried, trying to focus on who was behind the wheel. "I need to go back."

"Hey. Hey. Listen to me. You're ok. We're ok," he murmured. She blinked a few times until his face came into focus.

"I'm dead," she whispered. He reached out and cupped her chin his hand.

"Listen to me. You ain't dead. You're ok." She felt the words like a knife in the heart, and she choked out a sob. She looked around the cab of the truck as the empty space between them seemed to stretch for miles. She looked into the back of the truck that was overloaded with nothing but supplies.

"I'm not ok," she croaked out, choking back the overwhelming urge to vomit. "She's dead. I'm not ok."

"We'll go back," he promised. "You rest now. Just rest." As if under his spell, she did as he said, and before she knew it, she was asleep again, this time dreaming of Sophia's laughter and of her own screams muted by a roaring, searing fire.

When she woke next, her vision was better, and her head didn't hurt as much. The sun was just peaking in the horizon, and Carol realized she was covered up under a blanket and laying across the seat of the truck. She moaned softly and sat up, looking around for any sign of Daryl, only to find none. On the dash was a piece of paper. She grabbed for it and squinted, struggling to read it in the dim morning light.

_Went to look for Soph. Gun's in the glove box. Don't leave._

She looked around, seeing the morning fog mixing with white smoke rolling off of the smoldering ruins of the cabin. The only thing left standing was the brick fireplace, and the sight of it made Carol sick. She suddenly couldn't breathe. She made a grab for the handle of the truck, realizing he'd locked her in to keep her safe. She popped the lock and felt the cool morning air hit her face. She closed her eyes, taking in a few deep, shaky breaths before climbing down out of the truck and pulling the pistol out of the glove compartment.

She gently closed the door and began to walk toward the edge of the woods. She felt her stomach turn at the sight of walkers shot straight through the head littering the ground like a macabre garden. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand to try and stifle the stench, and as she neared the tree line, she began to look for any sign that her daughter had escaped the fire. Her heart swelled a little at the thought that if Daryl was out looking for Sophia, that must mean he thought she was alive. But her head told her that her heart was betraying her, and Daryl was only going to try and ease her pain, to show her he hadn't completely given up. It was sweet of him, but she knew in her heart that if Sophia was in that locked up house when that fire broke out, there was a very good chance that she was dead. As her mother, Carol knew she was going to have to live with knowing that for the rest of her life.

She moved away from the trees and made a wide circle around the smoldering remains of what had started to become a happy home. She felt the smoke and tears sting her eyes, and she fought the urge to look away every time she saw a pile of ashes she thought could be her daughter's body. This was her baby. This was the child she brought into this world and vowed to protect with everything she had. And she was gone.

"Sophia," Carol whimpered, her hands shaking. She bent over, hands on her knees, and she tried to fight back the urge to vomit, but she threw up anyway, and she knelt down on the ground, hands on the damp grass, and she threaded her fingers together in a desperate prayer. She begged for Daryl to appear through those trees with Sophia safely in tow, but the longer she waited, the more her heart sank; the more her head told her she'd never hear her little girl laugh again.

"Sophia!" she shouted, her throat sore and raw from crying. "Sophia!" She heard her words echo through the trees and bounce back. Pulling herself to her feet, she made another circle around the cabin, calling for her daughter, hoping she'd gotten out somehow, hoping she was just hiding. In her mind, she knew Sophia knew better than to hide, but her heart wasn't quite ready to give up the hope that she had anyway.

After only a couple of minutes, a few walkers made their way out of the trees, and she grabbed her knife out of her belt, holding it tightly in her hand.

"You took her from me," she cried out to nothing, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as the hot tears built up behind her lids. "She was just a child." A female walker stepped out from behind Daryl's truck, and Carol turned swiftly to stick the knife through its eye. She screamed out as she did so, feeling a rush of anger as she fell with the walker, landing over it, repeatedly drawing the knife back up before plunging it into the skull with a satisfying crack.

She pulled herself up, wiping off the blade of her knife before lunging at the next walker to get too close. She stuck the blade through its neck, listening to it pierce the soft flesh under the tongue and break right through to the brain. She screamed out for Sophia again, her eyes darting wildly back and forth over the tree line. Another walker came at her, and she handled the pistol, firing a single shot through its eye.

She fell to her knees again, screaming as she covered her face with her hands.

"Sophia!"

"The hell you doin'?" Daryl asked, startling her as he came running up. "You tryin' to get yourself killed? Get up!" He pulled her to her feet. Carol blinked a few times, her head tilting down in realization that he was alone.

"She's dead."

"Didn't see her in the house," he murmured.

"I thought you were dead, too."

"I got out through a back window just before the ceiling went," he explained. "Didn't see her. Called out for her." His hands were on her shoulders now, and he could see the life disappearing from her eyes. "She coulda got out. She coulda."

"And if she did?" Carol asked, waving her arm out toward the corpses on the lawn. "If she did, she's theirs now."

"C'mon," he urged. "Let's get back in the truck."

"And go where?" she asked, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes without a spark of life in them. "We'll just run 'til we die, Daryl. There's no point." She wiped at her cheeks before folding her arms protectively across her chest. Daryl watched the way she slowly gave up right in front of him, and he placed his hands on her shoulders again, squeezing them gently.

"Sophia wouldn't want…"

"Don't," she said, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. "She was my daughter. Don't you dare tell me what she'd want." She turned and went back to the truck, pulling herself inside and slamming the door. Daryl collected his thoughts for a moment, his gaze moving from tree to tree, hoping desperately for a glimpse of a clue to tell him what exactly had happened to Sophia. He'd found no leads in the woods. There were so many walker tracks that any living human tracks would have been masked. It was hopeless, and Carol seemed to know that, but he wanted more than anything to be able to give her answers. She needed to know. She deserved to know.

He turned back to look at the house, wondering if he shouldn't just sift through the ashes and look for her, but when he looked at Carol's still frame in the car, shoulders hunched, face tucked half-way under the blanket as she shivered, he knew he needed to get her away.

Before they left, he left a few bottles of water and some food in an old fishing tackle box out by the old well in the back. Inside, he left a note.

_Soph_, _if you're reading this, stay safe. Stay close. We'll come back._

The gravel popped under the tires as they pulled into the driveway of a house in town. Daryl eyed Carol for a moment before he got out of the truck and walked up the steps to the porch and banged on the door, listening for any signs of walkers inside. When he heard nothing, he checked the door, and it was unlocked.

Carol watched as he walked inside, gun drawn, and she kept her eyes trained on the dark doorway until Daryl stepped out, gun in his belt.

"It' safe," he assured her. "C'mon. Let's go in, have somethin' to eat." Carol said nothing and grabbed one of the bags she'd taken on their run that day. She fished out a change of clothes and brushed past Daryl and into the house. Daryl followed after her, locking the door behind them.

She disappeared into the back of the house, and Daryl noticed all of the candles set up around the house. Clearly, someone had stayed in the house after the power had gone out, but wherever they were, they hadn't been there in a long time. A fine layer of dust coated everything in the place, but at least that meant nobody would be coming back to surprise them in the middle of the night.

Daryl checked through the cabinets and found some spaghetti o's, which he promptly slid to the back of the cabinet so not to upset Carol if she were to see them. He fished out a can of corned beef hash and opened it, splitting it onto two plates, his stomach rumbling as soon as the first bite passed his lips.

When Carol walked into the kitchen, she was wearing a pair of comfortable khaki pants and a light blue tank-top with a blue button pulled over her arms loosely for warmth.

"Somethin' to eat," Daryl murmured, motioning toward the plate on the table.

"Not hungry," she muttered, running her fingers through her short curls.

"You gotta eat."

"I don't _gotta_ do anything." For the first time all day, her eyes flashed with that fire again, though she was angry this time. "I just want to sleep."

"Fine, but you're gonna eat first," he replied, pulling a chair out for her. He sat down in the chair across from hers, and he watched as she slowly sat down and picked up a spoon. She looked at him before taking a bite. Then another. Her hunger caught up to her, and they ate in silence, both stealing glances at one another from time to time, uncertain of what to say to fill the wordless void. Finally, the silence was too deafening, and Daryl cleared his throat. "We'll look for her first thing tomorrow."

"Don't," Carol said quietly.

"We can comb the woods and…"

"Stop it!" she shouted, slamming her spoon down on the table. She watched him swallow the lump in his throat, and she immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I just…I don't want false hope, Daryl. I can't…" She shook her head, and a few tears spilled out. "I'm never going to see her again." She sighed heavily. "I can't waste time pretending." She closed her eyes a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"I promised you I'd keep your girl safe," Daryl argued. "I aim to keep my promises if I can, and I'm gonna look for her first thing tomorrow." Carol just nodded, her eyes still closed.

"Okay." She sniffled and took a deep breath. "I need to sleep. I just…I need to lay down." Daryl nodded.

"Alright. Let me know if ya need anything."

"Don't leave," she said softly, looking back over at him. "I don't want to lose you, too." Daryl didn't know what to say to that. He just gave her a little nod and watched her get up and leave the room. All he wanted to do was get up and go to her and hold her and let her know that he'd take care of her. He'd do anything for her. But he didn't know how to help her through this. All he could do was hope like hell that Sophia got out and that she was hiding somewhere safe. He hoped he'd taught her enough to save her life.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I told her to stay inside," Carol murmured over a cup of coffee in the morning.

"What?"

"I told her over and over again to stay inside. Keep the doors locked. To…"

"Hey," Daryl said softly, putting his cup of coffee down and reaching across the table for her hand. She let him stroke his thumb over her knuckles briefly before she pulled her hand away. With a sigh, Daryl ran his fingers through his hair. "You can't blame yourself, a'right? You didn't do nothin' wrong."

"If she stayed in that house, Daryl, that means she was…oh _God_, she just…it's not fair. I can't think of her like that."

"Don't think of her like that," he murmured. "We're gonna go look. When the smoke clears. We'll look."

"She had to be in the house, Daryl," Carol whispered. "She promised she'd stay, and…and that's on me."

"No," he said quickly "That ain't on you. You were protectin' her. Sophia would have gotten out. There's that high window in the bathroom. The one that shuts on its own when you take out the stop? Yeah, she coulda got out."

"Please stop," Carol murmured. Daryl sighed heavily.

"Come on."

"What?" she asked, flinching in surprise as Daryl pushed his chair back abruptly and stood.

"We're goin' back."

"I can't."

"Yeah, you can. That's your girl. We gotta know. You ain't never gonna be able to forgive yourself if we don't know exactly what happened."

"There's no way. You don't…she's just _gone_, Daryl." She choked back the sob that rose in her throat, but to no avail. She sniffled and got up quickly, rushing to the room she'd slept in the night before. Daryl stood a there for a few moments listening to her sobs echo through the house before finally deciding he wasn't going to just let her go through this alone.

He walked quietly down the hallway, finding her standing at the bedroom window, her hands firm against the wall as she leaned in to look out.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. She turned quickly to look at him and wiped at her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I didn't…I didn't want her to go on that run with us."

"You were protecting her. I get that," Carol said gently.

"It wasn't just that. I…I wanted _you_ to go." When the tops of his ears reddened, she realized that he'd just wanted to spend time with her alone. "If she came with us, she…"

"Daryl, stop," Carol murmured. "You couldn't have known. That's not on you." She sighed heavily and wrapped her arms around herself. Daryl noticed she seemed to do that when she wanted to close herself off. He moved toward her, and he gently put his hands on her waist before she sighed and pulled her arms around him, resting her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek and feeling safe in his arms.

"I need to know," he said quietly, stroking her back. "And I know you do." Carol sighed softly and nodded her head, inhaling deeply, letting herself feel safe for a few moments more.

"I thought you were dead too. I thought I lost you." She sniffled as he hugged her close. "And then you were saving me, and…I didn't tell you I'm glad you're ok."

"Hey," he murmured, his hand stalling at her lower back, pulling her closer. "We take care of each other, right?"

"We're a family. You, me and Sophia," Carol whispered softly, nodding. "We take care of each other." When she finally pulled back, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Okay. Let's get this over with."

Daryl worked through the ashes with a shovel. Some of the spots were still relatively hot, but a gentle morning rain had cooled it considerably. Carol had found a pair of binoculars at the house that morning and used them to peer into the woods, looking for any sign of her little girl.

As the light rain misted down over the smoky, foggy clearing, Carol felt a chill run through her, thinking about what had become of her daughter. She wasn't certain there was any good news to be had. Even if Sophia had made it out of the cabin, that would have meant she'd have run to the woods, and in the woods were walkers and wild animals, and there was a good possibility that even if she had survived the fire, she hadn't survived any number of the other threats out there.

She felt cold and hollow. As the sound of Daryl digging through the rubble of their home filled the air, she walked over to the well and opened the lid to the tackle box that was there. Inside, she saw the note from Daryl to Sophia, and she placed her hand on her chest, the tears burning her eyes again, and she began to cry. She closed it and moved away, moved into the trees, winding around twisted, gnarled limbs. She groaned softly when her elbow knocked against a tree, and any sense of control and sanity briefly snapped, her hands clawing at the bark, her anger at everything that had happened spilling out as she kicked and punched and cried and wished that she could wake up and see Sophia's smiling face one more time.

She collapsed, panting and sobbing against the ground, leaning back against the tree, staring up into the lofts and wondering how the God she used to pray to nightly could have let the world turn into what it was. She thought about the first few nights after she'd met Daryl, how she'd thanked God for sending a guardian angel in the form of Daryl to her and her daughter, but now, she thought bitterly, she hated God for taking her daughter, for making her feel so helpless, so hopeless, so useless.

"Carol!" She could hear his voice frantic just beyond the trees, and she wanted to call out to him, tell him she was there, but for a brief moment, she thought _what's the point_ and wished the earth would swallow her up.

She sighed softly and looked down at her hands, bleeding and beginning to bruise already. She whimpered and closed her eyes to the sting of tears.

"Carol!" His voice was closer now, and she gripped the earth between her fingers, pushing herself against it to stand, and when she straightened, her eyes fixed on something a few feet away hanging from a low branch.

"What….?" She murmured, her voice choking and cracking in her throat. She moved closer. She reached out and grabbed the item into her hand, blinking away the tears as she attempted to focus on what she held. It was a pink headband with beaded flowers sewn delicately into it. It could only be Sophia's, because Carol recalled the painstaking hours it had taken her to make it for her daughter's sixth grade photos. "Oh God. Oh…" She held it delicately between her fingers, another sob coming forth as she realized her daughter hadn't been in the cabin. Then the realization hit that Sophia had been out in the woods, and where she was now, if she was even still alive, could be anybody's guess.

"Carol!" Daryl's voice was very close now, and she wiped her nose and looked around frantically.

"Sophia!" she shouted. "Sophia!" She heard the leaves crunch nearby. "Sophia!"

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders as he nearly bowled her over. "Goddammit! The hell you doin' out here? You tryin' to die on me?"

"She was here," Carol gasped, holding the headband up, watching the recognition fill Daryl's eyes. "She was here." Her lungs burned as Daryl took the item in his hand and looked around quickly.

"She ain't here now," he panted, "but they are." He nodded toward a few walkers coming their way out of the deeper part of the woods. "We gotta go. Now!"

"She…we have to find her. We have to…" A renewed hope had somehow risen within her, and as Daryl grabbed her hand and they started to run, he began to worry if maybe Carol had been right. Maybe Sophia was gone. But he couldn't break this fragile, tentative hope that she seemed to be clinging to now. It was a start. It was something. It was keeping her going, and that's the only thing either of them needed. She just had to keep going.

Once they reached the old cabin again, they had more freedom to move about, and as soon as the walkers started coming, they put them down one at a time. Now, Carol and Daryl sat on the tailgate of the truck, and Daryl was cleaning Carol's cut up hands.

"What were you thinkin' 'bout?"

"I wasn't," she murmured, eyes down, anywhere but on his.

"You can't die on me. You can't quit."

"I won't," she whispered hoarsely. "She could still be out there, couldn't she?"

"She could. She's a smart girl. She can hide."

"She can't climb trees," Carol sniffled. "I always wanted to teach her, because I did as a kid, but Ed didn't think it was right. And by the time we got divorced, she didn't have any interest in climbing."

"Plenty of places to hide in the woods. We'll look. If she's out there, we'll find her, a'right?"

"Thank you," Carol murmured. "I really thought she was in the cabin."

"Now we know." Carol winced as Daryl dabbed some peroxide on her bloodied knuckles. "You're not goin' with me. Not today."

"What?"

"I ain't riskin' ya. I can track. I can hunt. I can look for her. But you ain't goin'. Not today." His words were firm, and he gently wrapped her hands with gauze bandages before tearing off some tape and securing them around her hands. His hand moved up to her cheek, and he lifted her head so she was looking him in the eye. "You hear me?"

"I hear you," she whispered softly, another tear trickling down her cheek. Daryl's shoulders shook as he licked his lips, and Carol put her hand over his against her cheek.

"When I saw you was gone, I thought…"

"I'm sorry," she murmured, choking back another sob. "I'm sorry." She rested her forehead against his.

"Ya can't disappear."

"I won't," she promised. A soft growl of a noise came out of the back of his throat as his hand moved to the back of her head, clutching her hair between his fingers, tugging her back just a little to look in her eyes again. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here." And then his mouth was on hers, and she clung to him as if her next breath depended on it.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Carol woke to the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning. She moaned softly, her hands aching from the abuse she'd inflicted upon them hours before. It was dark, and she couldn't see anything except when the lightning flashed, and she felt his arms around her middle before she felt his breath against her shoulder. She suddenly remembered they'd gone back to the house in town and had dinner, and then they'd stayed up talking about their plans for looking for Sophia. After that, she'd gone to bed, and she'd asked him to stay with her until she fell asleep. Then she'd asked him to hold her, and he had, and at some point, she'd drifted off, and clearly, he had too.

She turned in his arms, facing him, feeling his steady, warm breath against her face, and she curled up against him, pulling one arm around his waist. She felt his arms instinctually tighten around her, and she sighed softly, resting her head against his chest.

She began to drift off again when a loud clap of thunder shook the windows. She felt Daryl jolt awake, and she pulled her arm tighter around his waist. He moaned softly as he slowly became aware that she was curled against him, and his hand moved down her back.

"Time is it?" he muttered sleepily.

"Not sure," she whispered softly. "Maybe early morning." He yawned, peering through the darkness, unable to make out the view of her face, but he could feel her breath against his cheek. "We should go back to sleep." Her hand curled into the back of his shirt, and he loosened his hold on her. The thunder shook the house again, and he felt her jump. His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, and she sighed under his touch, her breath catching in her chest.

He felt her breath ghost over his jaw, and then he felt her lips press against the corner of his mouth. Her ankle hooked over his, and he groaned softly when her hand moved up the back of his shirt, running over his back, warming him with her gentle touch. He lay still, letting her explore for a moment. Her lips were suddenly on his, and he was opening up to her, and she was gasping against his mouth, exploring him with her tongue and lips and teeth. He moaned as she pressed into him further, draping her leg over his hip, the heat from her center pressing into his groin. It didn't take much friction for his dick to stir to life, and she moaned at the feeling of him hard against her, pressing into her. She bit her lip, her body sparking to life as his hands began to move under her shirt, fingers skimming over the tops of her hips.

"Hey," he murmured, as her kisses moved from his lips to his neck. "Hey."

"I don't want to think," she whispered. "I just want you." Her voice was breathy but certain, and he didn't know what the hell to do. He was torn between acting on both of their desires and between giving her some space considering everything they'd been through in the past few days. "Please." And now she was begging him. "Please, just make me forget." Her tongue was on his skin now, and he groaned as she moved her hips and grinded against him, the fabric of their pants making the friction that much more intense.

Her hands were tugging on his shirt now, and in the darkness, he rolled onto his back, bringing her on top of him. She steadied herself before helping him take off his shirt. She bent down, her mouth seeking his in the dark, her tongue flicking over his lips, drawing out another groan from the back of his throat. Her knees framed his hips, and she moved against him, panting as she felt his dick straining against his pants, pressing into her heat. She leaned down, her mouth pressed against his neck, her mouth working him in a way that he'd never felt before. His hands gripped her hips, and he flipped her over in the bed, his mouth moving to her neck, feeling her shiver in his arms as he sucked her soft skin into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

He was dizzy now, and his hands were moving up her shirt, brushing over her toned stomach as their mouths connected again, a kiss more passionate than before, as if they were both fighting for dominance and submission at the same time, both wanting to take care of the other but desperately needing to be taken care of.

His hands were tugging at her pants now, and she lifted her hips as he pulled them down, and then he settled against her again, feeling the warmth of her thighs squeezing his hips. He buried a groan against her neck as his hand moved to the band of her panties, and a soft moan escaped her lips in the darkness. He captured the sound in his mouth and kissed her hungrily, his heart racing as her tongue chased his, teasing his lips and luring him closer to the point of no return.

"Please," she whispered again, as she arched forward, pulling her own shirt over her head. He desperately craved to see her, but he settled for the feel of her, the taste of her, as he leaned down, kissing her neck as he brushed one hand tentatively over her breast, feeling the small mound harden at the nipple, and her chest heaved, pushing herself against his hand. "Yes…" A growl escaped Daryl's throat as he lost all control and sought her other breast with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. Her hands were on his shoulders now, her nails gently digging in, and she bucked her hips to grind against his again, her skin tingling from the feel of his skin against hers.

Her hands moved to her own hips, tugging at her panties, and he grabbed her wrist, kissing her softly in the darkness. She moaned softly against his lips, letting him comfort her, letting him love her. His fingers gently hooked into the band of her panties and slipped them down. She sucked him a sharp breath as they worked together to get them off of her, and he was still for a moment, and she wasn't sure what he was thinking. She reached for him.

"Daryl?"

"Wanna see you," he murmured, frustrated by the darkness.

"It's ok," she breathed. "It's ok. Just come here. Please, Daryl. Please." He kissed her again, and her hands worked the band of his pants, and they worked together to slide them off of him, and then he was hard and ready against her thigh, and all she could think about in that moment was how much she wanted him. How much she needed him. How safe he made her feel when the rest of the world was a lifeless void.

"You sure?" he panted, his arms straining against the mattress as he hovered over her, wishing he could see her face, wishing he could see the certainty in her eyes, praying he wasn't making things worse for her. She needed him, and he sure as hell needed her like the air he breathed.

"Yes," she gasped, as her hands slid up his back. "Please. I need you." Daryl gently grabbed the back of Carol's knee, guiding her leg to drape over his hip. She moaned as his dick pushed at her wet heat, and he growled out his desire against her neck. She gently stroked the back of his neck, as if assuring him it was ok, and she wasn't going to regret this tomorrow. His eyes screwed shut, and he began to push into her, feeling himself surrounded by her, stars bursting behind his eyes as her slick walls squeezed him. He felt her body tense as he filled her and begin to relax when he was fully seated inside of her. She drew in a few ragged breaths, and he kissed her forehead and her nose and her lips, and she kissed him back hungrily. He pulled back slightly, and she whimpered.

"You ok?" he asked gently. Her hand sought his face, and she leaned up to kiss him again.

"I'm ok," she murmured. "Just don't leave. Please stay. Make love to me." She held onto him tightly, her nerves on overload, her body craving more of him. She sucked in a sharp breath as she stretched around him, and he began to pull back.

"I'm hurtin' ya."

"No," she breathed. "Please. Please don't stop." He could hear her voice wavering, and his mind suddenly sobered.

"Carol, I—"

"Please," she begged, choking back a sob. "Don't. Don't stop. Just kiss me. Please." He bent down and brushed his lips soothingly over hers. She held him, stroking his shoulders as if to reassure him, and he kissed her again, feeling her relax in his arms, and he began to move inside of her, gently at first, letting her get accustomed to this new feeling, trying to bide his time to give her as much pleasure as he could while he could. He buried his face against her neck as she cried out, her nails digging into his back as he began to make love to her.

Lightning flashed again, and he could just make out the vision of her neck arching against the pillow, her head thrown back, mouth open in a soft, silent cry. He sought her mouth again, kissing her softly and he moved inside of her. She pulled at his shoulders, needing him closer, and he sunk into her, chest to chest, hip to hip, connected, joined, both desperate for the feeling, unable to get enough.

She gasped against his neck before pressing soft kisses there, her teeth gently grazing along his shoulder. She opened herself up to him, sighing at the feeling of being loved this way. She began to move her hips, meeting his thrusts and setting a pace for him to follow, and when she felt his mouth enclose over one nipple, she let out a soft cry, burying her fingers in his hair.

He held on for her, feeling her breaths grow more ragged as her cries grew louder and more urgent, and when she fell back against the pillow, her body soaring from the sweet ache of release, he let go, spilling himself inside of her, collapsing against her, his hair now a damp mop across his forehead as he rested his head against her shoulder.

Her hand delicately traced along his back for the longest moment before he began to shift, drawing away from her only long enough to roll onto his pillow. And then his arms were around her again, pulling her to him, and she buried her face against his neck, her hand resting on his chest, and they both lay awake, nerve endings tingly, breaths slowing, listening to the storm rage on outside. A calm fell over them both until they were lulled back to sleep by the tempest outside.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Carol was up early. She slipped out of bed and dressed quickly before Daryl even began to stir. She set about packing up supplies for their search. She packed an extra set of clothes for the both of them, just in case, and when she poked her head out the door to check the skies, she noticed the clouds had moved out, and it was going to be a positively beautiful day. It was warm already, and that was a good sign.

She kept her pistol handy as she moved their supplies out to the truck, and when she came back in, she could hear Daryl stirring around in the bedroom. She chewed her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before heading back to see him. Her stomach felt jumpy as she silently crept toward the door. When she peeked in, she saw him peering out the curtains, his back toward her. In the dim morning light, she could just make out a large tattoo on his shoulder as well as long, pale scars. They looked like whipping scars. Her heart jumped at the sight, and she tried not to make a sound.

His head moved quickly, gently back and forth, as if he was in disagreement with something, but it took her only moments to realize that he was searching for something—for her.

"I'm here," she murmured. He turned quickly, relief filling his face as he saw her leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. She saw him swallow hard a couple of times, his hands twitching nervously at his side before he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're up early," was what he settled for, and she was silently thankful that he hadn't questioned why she wasn't there when he woke. She could see his face burning a little brighter than usual, and she tentatively crossed the room to close the gap between them.

"The truck's loaded up. We should eat and set out," she said softly, reaching out for his hand. He gave her fingers a little squeeze, and his gaze sought hers. She saw the questions behind his eyes, the worries, the wonderings, and she stood on her tip toes to gently press her lips against his. "Thank you," she murmured.

"What'd I do?" he asked. He saw the blush fill her cheeks, and she blinked a few tears back.

"You made me feel safe," she whispered. A little smile tugged at his mouth, and he leaned down to press his lips against hers again. She pulled her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him as his hands moved to rest against her hips.

"You're safe with me," he promised. She kissed him, humming softly against his lips. Finally, she pulled away.

"Come on. Let's find something to eat." Daryl nodded and followed Carol into the kitchen to scrounge around for something to tide them over for their journey today.

Carol checked and re-checked her pistol as Daryl drove toward the site where the old cabin was. She had one knife tucked down her boot and another one with finger grips ready to tuck into her belt when she got out of the truck.

"I say we stick together. Splittin' up's only gonna make us weaker," Daryl suggested. "We start at the cabin, start where you found her headband." Carol nodded, picking at the headband she'd wrapped around her wrist. "We make a wide circle, check for any sign. We'll look for tracks, see if anything didn't get washed away with the storm."

"If she's still alive," Carol began, the words thick and bitter on her tongue, "she'd look for shelter. She'd look for any place to hide."

"We'll check the houses that line the edge of the woods. We'll check fallen, hollow trees. If she's out there, we'll find her." His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. "I ain't gonna give up." Carol reached across the seat and put her hand on his arm, giving it a little squeeze.

Carol felt her heart begin to race as they started up the winding road to the old cabin. When the charred ruins of their home came into view, her nerves began to get the better of her. She began to tremble, and Daryl pulled the truck into park next to the old well. The tackle box remained where he'd left it two days ago.

"You ready?" he asked, dropping the keys into the breast pocket of his button down shirt.

"Yeah," Carol said breathily, her eyes glassy with emotion as she surveyed the area before them. She didn't want to think about what they could find out there or what they might not find. It was all too much for her heart to take, and her mind wasn't quite ready to accept that they very well might not find anything out there. Sophia could just be gone. Taken in by the woods, forever lost. Daryl grabbed his crossbow out of the back of the truck, while Carol tucked a few extra bullets in each pocket. She secured her bigger knife in the front of her belt with her shirt tucked behind it, just in case she needed to make a grab for it. Daryl handed her a small pack with some bottled water and beef jerky inside, and she slung it over her shoulder, while he put a pistol in the back of his pants.

Daryl let Carol lead the way to the spot where she'd found Sophia's headband hanging from the tree. It only took a few moments for Carol to spot the low branch it had been hanging on, and when they stopped, Daryl secured his crossbow over his shoulder and climbed up a ways to get a better view of the area.

Carol checked around the tree, looking for any other sign of Sophia having been there. She came up lacking, and when Daryl climbed back down, he nodded for her to follow him.

"Saw some tracks this way." He led her until they came across the clear path where there were very evident tracks from what looked like sneakers. "See how they're spaced out? Looks like somebody was runnin'. Don't look like walkers to me." He saw the struggle in Carol's eyes. She was trying to hold onto hope, but trying not to get those hopes too high.

"Sophia was wearing sneakers," Carol murmured.

"Let's check it out," he offered. Carol nodded, and they began to follow the tracks, being careful not to get their tracks mixed in with the ones they were following. They would need a clear starting place to come back to should they have to start all over again.

They followed the tracks for close to an hour before they tapered off near a clearing in the woods. There was an old shack, probably abandoned since the fifties or sixties and barely still standing. Carol was the first to spot it, and as soon as she did, she took off running.

"Hey!" he called out, his cries barely above a whisper. She didn't look back. She just kept running, so he drew his crossbow into his hands and brought up the rear, keeping an eye out for walkers. This clearing looked like the perfect place for a herd to come strolling through when they least expected it.

Carol pressed her ear against the shack's door, and she tapped lightly on it. Hearing nothing moving around, she eyed Daryl before calling out.

"Sophia?" Silence. Her heart sank, and she tried the knob. It squeaked on its rusted spring, and she pushed it open, peering in as the sunlight began to filter in. All that was inside was a makeshift cot and a few old cans of beans.

Daryl ducked inside the shack and looked at the cans, noting how the inside of the cans were damp, as if they'd only been opened a little while ago.

"Somebody was here. But they ain't here now." He stood and moved toward her, when he saw her lip quiver. "Hey, we're just gettin' started, a'right?" She nodded, and she took a few deep breaths before following him back outside. "If it was Sophia, she could still be close. We ain't givin' up. Let's keep goin', see if we can find anything." She only nodded, tucking her hands into her pockets as she walked next to him. He could see she was running all the possibilities through her head, and he hated that he knew that reassuring her would only make it worse. She didn't need false hope. She just needed to search, and that's what he was going to help her do.

They walked a little way in silence. The only sound around them was the crunch of leaves under their shoes and the occasional screech of an owl somewhere deep in the woods. But the longer they walked, Carol noticed the way Daryl tensed and looked to the side every once in a while.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly after several quiet minutes.

"We're bein' followed."

"Walkers?"

"No," he grunted. "Stay back." He got in front of her, raising his crossbow and looking in the direction of the sound he'd been hearing. The faint footfalls had echoed just outside the sound of his. Whoever it was had gotten good at tracking, but not as good as he was.

"Know you're there. Just come on out, nice and slow." Carol ducked out from behind Daryl, standing right at his side.

"It could be Sophia," she whispered.

"Ain't her," he murmured. "She knows our voices. She'd a'come out by now." The leaves on a bush nearby rustled slightly, and they turned just enough to face that direction. "Come on out now, or we'll just start shootin'." Silence. He heard Carol suck in a sharp breath of air, and they took a few steps backward just as a cloaked figure stepped out from the bushes.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The figure's face was shadowed in darkness, and it reached a gloved hand back to unsheathe a samurai sword. Carol cocked the pistol, and Daryl took a step toward the figure.

"Put it down. Now." His voice was unwavering, and the figure tossed the sword to the ground. Carol took a step forward. "Stay back," Daryl warned.

"Wait," she whispered, giving him an encouraging nod before turning to look at the stranger. "Please," Carol said softly. "My daughter. We're looking for my daughter. She's twelve. She has blonde hair, and she's about this tall." Carol motioned with her hand. "We mean no harm. We just want to find my girl. We think she's somewhere here…in the woods." The figure reached into its pocket and brought out a small charm bracelet. Carol gasped softly. "That's Sophia's. Where did you get it?"

"Where's she at?" Daryl asked, his voice rough, his eyes narrow. The figure moved its hands up and pushed back on the hood of the cloak, revealing the face of a woman with dark eye and a mysterious gaze. She had long, thick braids pulled back with a bandana. The woman handed the bracelet to Carol.

"I can show you where I found it," she offered. "If you want to call off your dog here." Carol put her hand on Daryl's shoulder, and he lowered his weapon. Carol put her gun away. "May I have my sword back?" Daryl nodded toward the sword, allowing her to pick it up. She brushed off a few stray leaves from the hilt and put it back in its sheath. "I'm Michonne."

"I'm Carol," Carol said softly. "This is Daryl. My daughter went missing a few days ago. We had a fire, and…"

"I saw the smoke," Michonne murmured. "I stayed clear it, didn't know if it was looters or what." Michonne glanced from Carol to Daryl. "You have a group?"

"We're it," Daryl said flatly. "Ain't got nobody else."

"Do you?" Carol asked quietly.

"No. Just me." The woman's voice was tense, as if she was holding back showing any kind of emotion whatsoever. "I can take you where I found the bracelet."

"Why'd you take it?" Daryl asked. "Ain't no value to it." Michonne shot him a look.

"Reminded me of someone," she said quietly. Her gaze went to Carol. "What's her name?"

"Sophia," Carol murmured, her lip trembling. Michonne nodded.

"Okay." Michonne's eyes settled on Daryl's, and he got the idea that she didn't quite trust him, though of course, he'd kept his crossbow trained on her and hadn't exactly been very hospitable to her. Still, he had no use for making new friends. All he cared about was helping Carol get her girl back, and if this woman could help in any way, he was willing to accept her help.

They walked for a good half hour, and Carol was beginning to get anxious. They were getting so deep into the woods that not only was she worried about getting back to the truck, she was worried about how Sophia had managed to get all the way out there.

When Michonne finally stopped, Carol and Daryl shared a glance before watching the woman take a right turn and move to the base of an old pine tree.

"Here," she murmured. "I found it here."

"Nothing else?" Carol asked, daring not to hope.

"That's it. But see here?" She moved away from the tree and scooted her foot across a pile of dirt, where burnt sticks and a few stones had been covered. "Somebody made a fire." Daryl crouched down next to it, touching the damp ashes. It was impossible to tell how long ago the fire had been put out. The rain had drenched the earth, and it made him uneasy to think that Sophia could be anywhere out there.

"There's a river about a mile up. She could be there," Michonne offered. "Fresh water. And if she knew how to fish…"

"She knows," Carol spoke up. "Her grandfather taught her. But that was a long time ago, and I'm sure there aren't any fishing poles out here."

"Soph's smart," Daryl pointed out. "She'd figure out a way. Think it's our best shot." Michonne pointed in the direction they needed to go.

"Follow that path, and you'll be there in about an hour," she offered.

"You're not coming with us?"

"I do better on my own," she murmured, her eyes downcast. "I hope you find your daughter."

"Thank you for your help, Michonne. I won't forget it," Carol said softly, her eyes welling with tears.

"I hope you find her. Children are the most vulnerable out here." She shivered a little, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. She turned to walk off.

"Hey. Thanks," Daryl called after her. She turned and gave him a nod before disappearing into the trees. Carol sighed heavily and dragged her fingers through her short curls.

"We weren't even going in the right direction."

"We got a lead. That's somethin'. If this is even where she found it. Don't know if we can trust her."

"What have we got to lose?" Carol asked, her voice above a whisper. "It's something."

"Maybe we should have gone back for the truck," Daryl murmured, peeking up at the darkening clouds above them. "Gonna rain."

"We'll find shelter," Carol said quietly, folding her arms across her chest, looking down, searching the ground for any sign of Sophia. They'd walked maybe a half-hour, and the thunder had begun in the distance. Each time, it grew a little closer, and Daryl hated the idea of Carol getting soaked in the rain.

"Closer we get to the river, we ought to start findin' some cabins or somethin'. Can't be too far from somethin'."

"Do you hear that?" Carol asked, stopping suddenly. Daryl stopped in his tracks, and they listened. Sure enough, they could hear the faint sound of water washing over rocks. "We're close." She gave him a hopeful smile and continued walking in the direction Michonne had pointed them in. Daryl took a few big strides to catch up to her and walk at her side. Her fingers brushed over his as they walked, and she wrapped her fingers around his. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and kept his eyes on the path ahead of them.

"We'll spread out when we get there. Walk the banks and look for her. Stay quiet, keep your weapons ready." Carol nodded at Daryl's instructions. "You run into walkers, put 'em down with the knife first. You find a herd, you start shootin' and you run back toward me. How many bullets you got?"

"Six in the chamber. Eight spare."

"Use 'em careful, alright?" He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and grabbed his pistol, counting the bullets in the chamber. He and Carol shared a glance just as a walker came stumbling into their path.

"I got it," she said calmly, lacing her fingers through the handle of her knuckle-knife and sticking it right into the skull of the walker. She fell with it, and tugged roughly to dislodge the blade from its skull. Daryl helped her up, and she wiped the blade on the walker's clothes.

"Thanks," she murmured, sticking her knife back into her belt. She brushed her hands off on her pants and took the lead again. It was amazing the transformation he'd seen in her since the night he'd met her. Then, she'd just been a frightened mother trying to protect her daughter. Now, she was a frightened mother trying to find her daughter, and it had brought out a strength in her that he admired. Watching her was like watching lightning strike a tree. She was a calm, easy person, but given the right motivation, she could bring hell to protect those she loved.

"Here!" she called from up ahead. "Daryl!" Daryl picked up the pace and joined her, climbing up a small incline before stepping between a few large boulders to reach a cliff that overlooked the river. Down below, a craggy shore-line wound around and disappeared in the distance in both directions. "So—" She stopped herself from calling out after her daughter, and she swallowed hard, adjusting her pack on her shoulder.

"I'll go right, you go left?" Daryl suggested.

"Ok."

"It's gonna pour rain any second," he murmured, sniffing the air. "We work fast. Ten minutes and then turn back and meet back here. Find shelter for the storm and start fresh when it passes." He could see the apprehension in her face, but it was the only way. The only thing searching in the rain would achieve was a case of pneumonia.

"Be safe," Carol urged, gripping the sleeve of his jacket. He nodded.

"Always am." He gripped her hand momentarily, giving it a little squeeze, and then they took off in opposite directions as the storm pulled closer, threatening to end their search before they even got started.

Carol moved along the river bank, knife in hand, stepping careful to try and avoid making any noise. On the other side of the river, a walker started across, only to fall face first into the water and be carried off downstream. Carol breathed a sigh of relief, though her heart pounded in her chest. At least they had the water as a natural defense against the walkers, should they run out of other options.

There was no sign of Sophia. The only foot prints were from some sort of wild animal, which made Carol uneasy. The longer they went without finding Sophia, the longer Sophia stayed exposed to the weather, the animals and walkers. Her stomach tightened, and swallowed hard, taking a few deep breaths as a cold sweat broke out all over her.

She realized she'd been walking quite a while, and it was probably time to turn back around and meet up with Daryl. It was at that moment that she heard something, a faint laugh. She pulled her knife into her hand and climbed up the steep bank to investigate the noise. As she pulled herself up using the strong roots of an old tree, she crawled behind a large bush, using her hand to push aside some leaves so she could see. It was then that she saw two people, a woman with blonde hair and a man with dark hair rolling around together as their clothes lay scattered about the ground.

She crouched low, keeping out of sight and peering around to see if they had weapons or vehicles of any kind. She saw a shotgun leaning against a tree behind them and a holster with a couple of guns sticking out of it. She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment before she ducked back out from the bushes and scrambled down the ravine. Tucking her knife back into her belt, she took off to join up with Daryl to let him know what she'd found.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Just the two of them? You didn't see anybody else?" Daryl asked, as he and Carol walked briskly toward the spot where she'd discovered the other two people.

"Well, they were kind of having a private moment," Carol pointed out, a little blush rising in her cheeks. "But they had weapons. If they're with other people, they'd have weapons, too. If Sophia was out here, she could be…she could be with them."

"It's possible," Daryl said with a nod. "What'd they look like?"

"She was blonde with long hair, and he had short dark hair. They looked like us. I mean…I mean, like they've had shelter or at least have been taking care of themselves. They look like they've been eating."

So they got weapons, they got food, they probably got other people then, if they gotta sneak off in the woods to get some privacy. Maybe they got a house or some kind of set-up out here." She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

"Daryl, I just want to find out if they saw Sophia. I don't care about their supplies or…" The distinct sound of a motorcycle revving up startled them both. Daryl's gaze flashed toward the sound. He knew that sound.

"That's my bike," he said in a low, gruff manner, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the trees. He'd dumped it back at the cabin, having the need for more space for supplies than anything else. The realization hit him. "They've been to the cabin."

"You think they started the fire?"

"Don't know. Could be."

"Let's check it out."

"We need the truck. We ain't doin' this without a way to escape. They got more people and weapons, we're gonna need all the help we can get."

"Daryl, they could be gone by the time we get back here! And how do you know we'll even find it taking the roads?"

"We'll follow the river, and we'll…"

"Daryl, no! I know you're just trying to think about our safety, but I'm thinking about my daughter. If she's still alive, if they have her, I need to know. I need her to be safe. I need to get her back." She choked back a sob, and Daryl put his hands on her shoulders, gently stroking the side of her neck with his thumb.

"Listen ta me," he said softly. "If they got your girl, we're gonna get her back. We gotta go back for the truck. We gotta get the rest of our ammo."

Thunder rumbled loudly overhead, and a flash of lightning startled them both.

"No. I can't go back. I have to know." Her voice was firm and sure, and when he looked in her eyes, he saw fear, yes, but he also saw fire and determination. She was going to do this, no matter what, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her do it alone.

"Alright," he murmured. "You stay with me." Carol nodded quickly, and she was the first to grab the tree roots and pull herself up. Daryl followed close behind, and they peeked out from the bush to see not a single trace of the two lovers Carol had spied earlier. But the faint sound of chatter echoed through the trees, and they caught each other's gaze.

"C'mon," Carol urged, tugging on Daryl's sleeve. He followed her, and at that moment, the clouds broke open, and the rain began to pour. Carol ducked her head at the feeling of the cold rain washing over her, and at that moment, the sound of car engines starting broke through the thunder. "No!" She took off running.

"Wait!" Daryl called out, reaching for her, but she was already gone. He followed after her as she tore through the bushes and the trees, chasing a lead that might or might not bring her daughter back to her.

"Stop!" she screamed out. "Sophia! Sophia!" They ran into a clearing, where several tire tracks were embedded in the mud and filling with water. Daryl caught up to her, his lungs burning but his eyes fixed straight ahead. "There," he panted, extending his finger in the direction he was looking. She followed his gaze, seeing the black asphalt of another road. They rushed to it, and that was when they caught a glimpse of a string of tail lights fading into the distance as the rain began to pound harder onto the earth. "No! Stop!" She started sprinting down the road, stumbling slightly as her ankle nearly gave out, and she felt his arms around her, dragging her back off the road and into the damp grass.

"Stop! Ok? You gotta stop!" he yelled as the thunder tore through the air again. "We don't know who they are! We don't know if Sophia's with 'em! We don't know anything, alright, so you gotta stop!" She was crying now, and she struggled to pull herself out of his grasp. He gripped her arms and turned her to face him. "Stop. Just stop. I got ya." Carol broke down in that moment, and she fell into him, and his arms came around her waist. He held her as she cried, gripping his shirt as the rain drenched them both. "I got ya. I'm here." He stroked her back as they stood in the rain, and he felt her just give herself over to him, her body weakening as she leaned against him.

"She's not here," Carol sniffled. Daryl looked around, catching his sights on an old tarp half-hidden under a bush.

"C'mon." He tugged at her arm, and she followed him toward the bush, standing shivering in the rain while he pulled it out. He held his arm out and pulled her to the ground before pulling the tarp over them both to give them a little shelter while they waited for the storm to pass.

Mercifully, the truck was still parked back at the old cabin when they made it back that night. They'd run into a small herd of walkers on the way back, but other than that, the only issue they had to contend with was the weather. The wind had picked up, and the temperature had dropped, and by the time they got back to the truck, they were both shivering and soaked to the bone.

"We'll find that road tomorrow," Daryl said quietly as he started the car and turned the heater on full blast, reaching over to gently rub Carol's shoulder. The sensation of his hand on her shoulder made her jump, but she relaxed, and she looked at him with red, tear-brimmed eyes.

"Who knows where they could be tomorrow?" They quickly began stripping out of their wet clothes and into the dry ones they'd packed just in case of this situation.

"My guess? Ain't gonna stray too far from the river. Fresh water, fishin'. The woods are good for huntin'. We'll pack up in the mornin' and head that way, alright?" Carol began stuffing their wet clothes into a trash bag as they pulled the dry clothes on, feeling warmer already.

"Ok," she murmured softly from the passenger's seat. She shivered again, and Daryl pulled out of the drive, stepped on the gas, and sped down the road toward the little house at the edge of town where they could try to sleep and prepare for tomorrow's journey.

She was quiet the rest of the way back to the little house, and as soon as Daryl pulled into the drive she helped him pull a tarp over the back of the truck to hide their supplies.

Once inside the house, Carol toed off her shoes and lit a few candles to try and warm the room up a little. Daryl rooted around the cabinets in the kitchen, while Carol grabbed a few blankets from the hall closet. The thunder rattled the windowpanes, and Carol ran her fingers through her still-damp hair, shivering as she thought about how cold that rainfall had been and how quickly the temperature had dropped out there.

"It'll be a miracle if we don't have the flu tomorrow," she muttered, settling down on the couch and pulling a blanket over her lap. She held her hand over one of the candles, feeling the heat lick her hand. She pulled back sharply just as Daryl came walking in with a bottle of some kind of liquor and two shot glasses.

"What's this?" she asked.

"You're shakin'," he murmured.

"I'm cold," she said quietly.

"Ain't just that. It's your nerves."

"I don't drink much," she said quietly, extending her hand out to accept one of the shot glasses, as Daryl settled down on the couch next to her. She tossed one of the blankets over his lap, and he unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

"What is it?" she asked, her face screwing up in disgust at the smell of it.

"Whiskey," he chuckled. "It'll warm ya up, at least." Carol eyed him as he poured a drink out for her first and then one for himself. "Just drink it back. Don't sip on it." She watched him take the shot, swallowing it down in one gulp, and she followed his lead, coughing as her throat and nose burned.

"That's awful," she groaned, wiping her mouth.

"Tastes better the more ya drink," he offered. She made a face, but she sucked down another shot after he poured it for her. He took his second shot and put the bottle down on the end table. Carol leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes and listening to the rain drumming on the took her shot glass from her and put it down with his next to the whiskey bottle.

"You warm now?" he asked. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled sleepily at him.

"Getting there," she murmured. Daryl shifted on the couch, and Carol scooted over to lean against him. He lay back against the throw pillows, and she curled up against him, resting her head on his chest. He rested his chin atop her head, breathing in the scent of her, and she gently curled her hand into his shirt. "G'night,"

"Night," she replied, turning her face toward his. He brushed his lips gently over hers, and she hummed softly against his mouth before pulling back and laying her head back down on his chest. He laid his hand upon her back, feeling the steady rise and fall, and when he was certain she was sleeping, he let go and gave into his own exhaustion.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

After three hours of driving around and having to make a stop to get more gas, Daryl and Carol managed to find the exact spot that the caravan of cars had left during the storm yesterday. They'd managed to find an off-road trail that had crossed through the woods and led them to that exact spot. Carol figured they'd probably made camp there in the middle of the woods for a few nights and had gotten out when the rain had started to flood the clearing.

Daryl turned in the direction that he'd seen the cars going, and he saw Carol perk up for the first time that morning. She was alert, her eyes focused on where they were going.

"We find 'em, and we wait. We watch 'em, see if they got Sophia. We find Sophia, we go in. Just gotta know how far you're willin' to go."

"I'll do anything to get her back, Daryl," she said evenly, her fingers tapping against the barrel of the shotgun that lay across her lap. And he believed her.

Carol sighed heavily and leaned back in the seat, keeping an eye on the road. Daryl stepped on the gas and sped down the road, hoping to find some clue as to where the group had headed, hoping that it was leading them closer to finding the truth about Sophia and not further away from it.

After an hour of driving, Carol was getting anxious. They'd stopped in literally every little town they could think that a group might stop for supplies, and they'd found nothing.

"More'n likely, they'd stick to this road."

"I thought you said they'd stick close to the river." Daryl chewed his lip and glanced at her.

"Guess they musta figured they'd be better off movin' on." Carol sighed with frustration and slammed her head back against the head rest. "Hey. C'mon, we're gonna find 'em."

"We got so close, Daryl. We were so close, and then they were gone. We don't even know if Sophia's with them."

"Ain't you the one that wanted to go after 'em? The fuck you want me to do?" he asked, his voice rough but not entirely angry. He was just exhausted and exasperated. "Ya keep goin' back and forth, sayin' we gotta find Sophia, sayin' we gotta find these folks, but then ya say she might not be with 'em, she might be dead."

"She might be," Carol murmured, looking down at the chipped, clear glossy polish on her nails, faded from time. Daryl slammed on the brakes, sending them both lurching forward in the truck. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, and Carol stared at him.

"What are we doing?" she asked gently.

"What are we doin'?" he asked. "Are we lookin' for your girl? This a rescue mission or some way to distract you from thinkin' 'bout what really happened?" He saw her flinch.

"You think she's dead."

"No. But I can't read you. You act like we're gonna find her, and then ya act like we ain't never gonna see her again. Which is it?"

"Stop," Carol murmured.

"Just talk to me, damn it!" He slammed his hand on the wheel for emphasis, and she immediately unfastened her belt and jumped out of the truck. Daryl sighed heavily and got out, following her over to the side of the road. "I'm sorry."

"You have _no_ idea what it's like to dream every night that your child—your _baby_—could be lost out there or with strangers who…who could hurt her. Or to think that she might be cold or hurt or…or dead." The last word caught in her throat, and she doubled over, resting her hands on her knees, gasping for breath as she fought the urge to vomit. Daryl gently put his hand on her back, and he knelt down on the ground as she went to her knees.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Didn't mean to yell. Just…look, I'll take ya anywhere ya wanna go. I just gotta know where you're at. What you're thinkin'."

"I just…I need to find her, Daryl. I just keep wondering if…if maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she's still out there in those woods." She gestured toward the direction they'd driven from. Maybe she's out there. Or maybe…maybe we've been wrong this whole time, and…"

"Hey," Daryl urged, "look, we know she was out there, a'right? We know that Michonne woman found her bracelet. She was out there. And we didn't find no fresh blood. That's a good sign. We just gotta…we gotta keep lookin'. We don't find this group by tomorrow, we'll turn 'round and go back." Carol nodded and sniffled, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. You must think I'm crazy."

"You ain't crazy. You're just scared, and ya got every right to be." He stood and helped Carol back to her feet, and she sighed and leaned against him when he pulled his arms around her, stroking her hair softly as she relaxed against him. After a few minutes, he pulled back and chucked her chin, getting a little smile out of her. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go," she said, sniffling and giving a firm nod.

As nighttime fell, Daryl pulled the truck up against the side of an old barn. He and Carol were the first out to check the place for walkers. Thankfully, whoever had abandoned the place, had locked the place up good. It was merely a used for storing farm equipment, so there wasn't much room to move around.

After securing the doors, Daryl made his way over to the loft ladder. He climbed up first to make sure there weren't any nasty surprises waiting for them. When he saw it was clear, he motioned for Carol to join him, which she did promptly.

"You cold?" he asked, bunching up some hay to use as pillows.

"A little," she murmured tiredly. Daryl nodded.

"Be right back."

"You don't have to go all the way back down there."

"Be right back," he repeated, climbing back down to get their blankets out of the truck. When he returned, Carol was half-asleep, but she roused when Daryl lay down next to her, covering her with one blanket and himself with another. She instinctively rolled to drape her arm across his chest, gently stroking him there. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden contact and then relaxed, gently rubbing his hand down her side and her hip.

He was a little ashamed to say he was getting hard having her there against him, her hand innocently stroking his chest. He knew the last thing on her mind was sex, and the only reason that first night happened was because she was grieving and needed something to take her away from all that pain. He didn't know what the future held for them once they found their answers, but he felt something heavy and hollow settle in his chest, a fear that he would lose her somehow.

"Daryl?" she asked gently, as his arms tightened around her. "Are you ok?"

"Fine. You get some sleep," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She snuggled into him and closed her eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat sooth her to sleep.

Daryl jolted awake at the sound of his truck door opening. He sat up quickly, and Carol stirred next to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a yawn, squinting into the morning light.

"Somebody's out there," he murmured. "C'mon." He grabbed his crossbow, and she found her knife under a clump of hay, and they crawled silently over to the loft window to peer out and over toward where the truck was parked. A young Asian man was checking the dash for keys, as an older man with a white beard and a hat looted through the back for supplies.

"Daryl," Carol breathed softly, "you think they're part of that group?""Dunno," he whispered gruffly, "but they ain't takin' our shit." He nodded, motioning for Carol to follow him, and they crept out of the loft and down the ladder. Creeping with their backs to the barn walls, they slid out toward a small door in the back. Carol kept her fingers curled tightly around her knife, and she took a couple of deep breaths, biting her lip as she followed Daryl out the door and into the cool, morning mist.

They stayed pressed against the sides of the barn, inching their way around until they saw the younger man disappear under the dash, obviously trying to hotwire the pickup. The old man was just stuffing a few bottles of water into a pack when he felt the point of Daryl's bolt against his neck. He tensed, and Daryl banged his hand on the hood of the car.

"Slide on outta there. Nice and easy." The young Asian man's head popped up behind the wheel again, his eyes widening with surprise as he heard the strange, gruff voice. "Hands up, nice and easy." He slid out slowly, his hands up, and he stepped away from the truck.

"We don't want any trouble. We were just looking for supplies."

"These ain't yours to take," Daryl pointed out. "They're ours." He gestured toward Carol, and she came around, knife poised.

"Look, like I said dude, we don't want any trouble. We'll just get in our car and go." He motioned toward a silver Buick parked close by. "Clearly you don't have anything we need.."

"Yeah," Daryl said, narrowing his eyes a bit. "But I got a feelin' the same thing can't be said 'bout you. You got a group?" The young man nodded slowly.

"They by the river yesterday?" The man's gaze turned toward the older man's. "Don't look at him. Look at me." The younger man just gave a little nod. With that affirmation, Carol stepped forward.

"We're looking for..."

"My bike. Ditched it in a hurry and went back for it. Wasn't there. Heard somethin' sounded an awful lot like it last night. Thought it might be mine." A look of realization hit the younger man, and his gaze faltered again, looking toward the older man's. "You seen it? Shoulda had half a pack of cigarettes in the side bag."

"Yeah. We've seen it. We've got it," the older man said slowly. "You're gonna have to come with us, and you're gonna be blindfolded."

"No fuckin' way," Daryl protested.

"That's the only way," the older man explained, getting a jab from the point of the arrow. "Or you can kill us now. What's it gonna be?" Carol gently put her hand on Daryl's shoulder, and he grunted in frustration. "You're gonna put your weapons in the back of the truck, and you're going to let us drive you back to our camp. Not everybody's thrilled with strangers coming in, staking their claim on our supplies."

"Why should we trust you?" Carol asked quietly, her eyes fixing on the older man's as she turned to face him.

"You shouldn't," the older man said quietly. "We're strangers, and went this day's over, maybe it's best we stay that way."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Daryl's hand brushed over Carol's as they sat side by side in the truck. The young Asian man was driving, while the older man followed behind in the silver Buick.

"You gotta overlook Dale. He's a good guy. He's just protective of the group. He's smart. If you earn his trust, you're golden."

"Sounds like you folks had some bad luck with outsiders," Carol murmured, tapping her fingers on her knee.

"You could say that. Not everybody we've brought in has been bad, but then you get that one person that ruins it for everybody else." When silence filled the cab, the young man cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "So, that bike must be pretty important to you."

"Yeah. The bike," Daryl muttered. "Guess you saw the cabin. You do that?"

"What?"

"Our cabin burned down."

"Yeah, it was already burnt when we found it. Ashes were already cold."

"Why were ya there?" Daryl asked, feeling Carol's fingers curl around his own.

"You always ask this many questions?" They rode in silence for a few minutes more. "Look, we're good people. We're just trying to survive, same as you. Some of us have families. We're just trying to look out for our own. You can have your bike. My wife says I look ridiculous on it anyway." He chuckled. "I'm Glenn, by the way." Clearly, he expected a reciprocation of names from his riding companions, but only silence followed. "Dale. He's a good guy. Kind of like the dad everybody looks up to. He lost his family at the turn. He's kind of our resident protector."

"How many of you are there?" Carol asked quietly.

"Enough. And we have weapons."

"You think that scares us?" Daryl asked with a snort. "Don't care 'bout your weapons. Don't care what you got."

"Except for your…bike, right?" he asked, sounding a little amused. They made a sharp turn. "Sorry. Rough road for a few miles." The truck bumped and jostled along what was more than likely an old logging road or maybe even a field. More than likely, Daryl figured, they were trying to get them confused as to what direction they were going in, so that when they led them off to turn them loose, they'd have no idea how to follow back. Still, if they were going to go through all that trouble, they'd probably be better off just shooting them and being done with it. Daryl hadn't completely ruled out that possibility, which was why he was going to make certain to keep close to Carol and not let any of these strangers get her alone.

Finally, Carol had had enough of the quiet.

"Why are you so willingly taking us back to your camp? We put our weapons down, and you just willingly shoved us in the truck for a motorcycle?"

"I could ask the same about you. You _willingly_ handed over your weapons and let us blindfold you. Maybe it's not just a bike you're looking for." Carol went to speak again.

"Ain't none of your damned business," Daryl muttered. He heard a snort from the driver.

"Almost there," the young man offered, making another quick turn down a much smoother road. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

"You said there are children at your camp?" Carol prodded hopefully.

"Yeah," Glenn offered. "There were more, but some folks broke off when new people started coming in. Didn't trust 'em. Our leader, his name's Rick. He's got a couple kids. Wife died giving birth, so now he's stuck with a newborn and a smartass kid. Guess some things don't change, huh?"

"This leader'a yours, he gonna be alright with you bringin' us around?" Daryl queried.

"He sent us out for supplies. He hates that motorcycle anyway. Says it wakes the baby up every time. He'll be glad to see it gone." The truck came to an abrupt halt, and Glenn cut the engine.

"We're here. You can take off your blindfolds now. I'm surprised you didn't try it already."

"And get shot for doin' it?" Daryl asked, lifting the fabric from his eyes and peering across the cab at the younger man.

"Dude, I wouldn't shoot you," Glenn chuckled, revealing a smile filled with perfect pearly whites. "We just had to make sure we could get you back here, no trouble." Carol removed her blindfold and glanced at Daryl, and he could practically see the nerves flickering in her eyes. These people had gone through an awful lot of trouble to get them back to camp, and he could see it was making Carol a bit uneasy.

"Then what the hell was with all this 'we're strangers and better stay that way' shit your old buddy Dale was spewin' earlier?" Daryl asked. Glenn laughed at that and shook his head.

"Like I said…Dale's kind of the group dad. He's really not an asshole, but sometimes you gotta be, you know, when people try to steal your shit."

"Like you was doin' this morning," Daryl reminded him. Glenn gave him a little shrug of concession and hopped out of the truck.

Carol peered out the window, seeing the group of cars and a very large RV off to the far side of the camp. A smattering of tents decorated the lot in various hues of reds, blues and blacks. A fire pit surrounded by chairs was at the center of the camp, and several people poked their heads up from those chairs as they sat sipping their morning coffees.

"Come on," Glenn offered, motioning for them to get out the truck. "Might as well come meet everybody." Carol and Daryl shared a look as Glenn left them to go over toward the group. Dale walked past the truck, eyeing them both before following after Glenn.

"What the hell?" Daryl muttered.

"I don't understand," Carol said quietly.

"C'mon," he urged. "Let's just get this over with. Keep your eyes peeled. Look around and see if you see any sign of Soph." Carol gave him a tentative nod before they climbed out of the truck and followed Glenn and Dale toward the rest of the group.

All eyes were on them as they made their way over, and a little Asian girl ran to Glenn with open arms, and he scooped her up into the air. She giggled happily as he pressed kisses to her cheeks. A young, thin-framed woman came over to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and they embraced like it had been too long since they'd last held each other.

Carol felt a lump in her throat as she watched the small family. She sighed softly, her fingers brushing over Daryl's as they made their way over to the group. Glenn spoke quietly with a man holding a baby, and nobody seemed to be reaching for weapons.

"Hear you folks are here for a bike," the man with the baby said.

"You must be Rick," Daryl said evenly. He noted the pressed tan shirt and pants the man wore. "You a cop?"

"Name's Rick Grimes. I used to be a Sheriff," the man said quietly, a sullen look passing over his face as he stared down at the baby in his arms."Sheriff Rick Grimes," Carol gasped. Daryl eyed her. "The man on the CB that first night." Daryl's eyes flooded with recognition. She turned back toward him, worrying her lip nervously between her teeth. "I'm Carol." The man didn't seem surprised at all.

"Dad is that S…" a boy spoke up, rushing over with a sheriff's hat atop his head.

"Go to Dale's camper, Carl," Rick said abruptly, cutting the boy off.

"But…"

"You heard me. It's alright." Carl eyed them, and Carol could have sworn she saw a brief smile pass over his lips before he turned and rushed toward the large camper nearby.

"What's goin' on here?" Daryl asked, stepping slightly in front of Carol.

"Took my boy out hunting a coupl'a days ago," Rick started. "Our group was camped by the river, getting fresh water, getting some fishing in. My boy Carl heard somethin' in the bushes. Raised his gun, and then we heard something else. A cry."

The door on the RV swung open, and Carl came out first, holding onto the pale, thin wrist of a girl who followed behind him closely. Carol's gaze immediately snapped toward the RV, and she gasped as she saw her daughter's pale face bathed in sunlight.

"Oh God!" she choked out. "Sophia!" And she was running, and Daryl was running with her, and Sophia's eyes widened with shock when she saw her mother coming toward her. Carl stepped out of the way just in time as Carol swooped in and pulled her girl into her arms, hugging her close and sobbing as the girl clutched at her mother's back.

"Oh my God," Carol murmured. "You're alright. You're ok."

"Mama," Sophia sniffled. "You found me." Carol hugged her daughter close, stroking her hair, as Daryl gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He turned to Rick, his eyes full of questions.

"Thank you," Daryl murmured, as Rick nodded his head and turned, leading his son away to give the little family a few moments to themselves.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"She was out of it when we found her. She was curled up behind a bush, freezin', sick. Took her back to camp and got some antibiotics in her. She woke up and started goin' on about her mama and about a man named Daryl."

They sat around the small fire, listening to Rick explain how they'd happened upon Sophia. Sophia rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her face was still pale, but she didn't want to go back to the RV and rest.

"The fire," Sophia spoke up softly, "it was my fault." Carol squeezed her daughter's hand. "I lit a lantern so I could see better when I was reading, and I heard a noise. I got up to see what it was, and the lantern fell. I grabbed the gun, and I ran out. There were walkers, and I couldn't get away, so I ran. I got turned around, and I couldn't find my way back. I'm sorry, Mom."

"Hey," Carol murmured, "you're safe, and you're here, and that's all I care about, ok?" Sophia nodded glumly, but Carol gave her a squeeze around the shoulders. "Look at me, Soph." Sophia stared up at her mother, her eyes wet with tears she'd been holding back. "You did _exactly_ what you should have done. You got out, and you survived. I'm proud of you."

"When Rick brought her back," Dale chimed in, "she had a bad fever, and when that broke, she was begging us to find the cabin and look for you. We'd seen the smoke, so a few of us went out looking. We found the cabin, but we didn't find you two." Carol sniffled and nodded her head.

"So we pretty much put two and two together when you mentioned your bike," Glenn pointed out. "Sorry we manhandled you." He took off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. "We just wanted to make sure. When we saw Sophia's face, we knew."

"Thank you so much for taking care of her," Carol murmured. "Thank you…" She hugged Sophia again, and her gaze locked on Daryl's. He gave her a little nod, and she sniffled, smiling at him, a renewed hope twinkling in her eyes.

Dale made himself scarce keeping watch atop his RV the rest of that morning, while Glenn went about introducing Carol and Daryl to the rest of the camp. Of course, there was Rick and Carl and baby Judith, who looked to be barely a month old. There was Glenn's wife Sarah and their little girl Jenna, who proudly boasted that she was four-and-three-quarters old. Carol couldn't help the blush that crept over her cheeks when she met the couple she'd spied rolling around in the woods, Shane and Andrea. Andrea struck Carol as a woman who was quite territorial, especially given the way she kept an eye on Shane when he stepped forward to greet Carol with a handshake. He was kind of a flirt, and Carol noticed Daryl shift uncomfortably when Shane joked about it being nice to have another female around the camp. An older man named Hershel and his two daughters, Maggie and Beth made up the rest of the group. The word was that there had been far more of them, but attacks had desperately decreased their numbers.

Hershel was a veterinarian with some knowledge of medicine for humans, therefore he was certainly an asset to have around. His youngest, Beth, was doe-eyed and seemed to stay far away from all of the talk about walkers—geeks, as Glenn called them—and spent quite a lot of time scribbling in a little diary.

"You two planning on moving on?" Rick asked after all the introductions had been made. "With Sophia?" Daryl and Carol eyed one another. "I guess you need some time to talk it out. Look, whatever Glenn and Dale said to ya, you're welcome here. You're Sophia's people. She's welcome. You're welcome."

"Thank you," Carol said softly.

"Extra tent in the back of Dale's RV. You folks take that tonight. We're plannin' on headin' out, goin' north tomorrow. You wanna join us, you're more'n welcome. Just gotta pull your own weight with chores and supply runs, but we'd have you all.""Thank you," Carol murmured, giving Rick a little nod before he turned and walked away.

"They're nice people, Mom," Sophia offered. "Carl's my age. And his baby sister's so cute. And Mr. Grimes has been bringing me food. We should stay here." Carol looked over at Daryl.

"What do you think?"

"I'm ain't goin' nowhere without either one of ya," he pointed out, prodding the fire with a stick. "We got numbers here. We got more supplies, more weapons. Could be a good thing. Still think we need to find a place with walls.

"Maybe we should re-visit that gated community idea. It's been long enough now. There would be plenty of places abandoned."

"Or overrun," Daryl pointed out.

"But we have numbers now," Carol chimed in with a hopeful smile. "We could get in, clear the place out and patch up the walls. I really think we could do it."

"We could," Sophia said with a positive nod. "Mr. Grimes and Mr. Walsh are really strong. They argue a lot, but they're friends, and Carl says when they work together, they get a lot done . Talk to them, Mom. I bet they'd like the idea, too."

"Ain't the worst idea I ever heard," Rick murmured, eyeing Carol, a little intrigued by this woman's thinking. "Why didn't you folks try it before?"

"When it all happened, people would have been doing whatever they could to protect their walls. But time changes things, and it might be safer to try now. Might even be safer to try one that's already over run, so we only have walkers to deal with."

"We're better off stickin' to the road, keep movin'. Gated community, we'd be sittin' ducks for the next group to come along and pick off," Shane spoke up, rubbing his hand through his hair. "Nah, we'd be best just movin' along."

"We stick together, we got the numbers. It could work," Daryl pointed out. "How are your people with guns?"

"Andrea's a great shot. Maggie, Glenn and Sarah, too. Hershel ain't too keen on it pullin' the trigger, but when it comes down to it, he gets the job done."

"What about that little blonde?" Daryl asked. "She alright?"

"She's a scared kid. Just gettin' ready to start college when everything changed. She stays close to her daddy and her sister," Rick murmured. "Helps with the little ones around the camp sometimes."

"She a good shot?"

"Ain't never picked up a gun before. I've tried. Shane's tried. Hershel's real protective of his girl though, but if you can get through to him, get through to her, then maybe she stands a chance of protectin' herself, helpin' out the group," Rick offered with a shrug. Daryl nodded, chewing his lip nervously.

"A'right." He looked at Carol and she gave him a little smile.

"Looks like we have some decisions to make," Carol murmured.

"We'll leave you to 'em. Just don't think too long. We'll be movin' out tomorrow," Rick offered quietly. He tapped Shane's arm, and the two walked off in what looked from a distance like a heated conversation. "What do you think?" Daryl asked quietly, chewing at his nails.

"I think numbers are a good thing. They took care of Sophia, so I'm willing to trust them," she said softly. "I'm not sure about that Shane. He seems like a bit of a hot head."

"Yeah," Daryl muttered. "Sophia trusts 'em. Says they're good."

"But she's twelve, and they saved her life," Carol offered. "I don't know, Daryl. We did alright on our own…"

"But?"

"But," she said with a little smile, "it would be nice to have…people, you know? Friends?" Daryl nodded. "Why don't we stay for a while. Travel with them. If we don't like it, we can go our separate ways."

"You and me and Soph?"

"Of course," she said with a smile, taking his hand in hers. "Does that sound ok?" He gave her a little nod before briefly brushing his lips against hers.

"Sounds good," he murmured. "C'mon. I'll help you get your tent sent up."

"My tent?" she asked.

"I thought you and Soph…"

"Sophia's still sick," Carol said softly. "Dale already said she could sleep in the RV. It gets cold at night, and she needs to stay warm. Besides, I don't want to be alone tonight." Daryl noted the tone in her voice, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Will you stay with me?"

"I'll stay," he promised, brushing his thumb over her cheek and drawing out that beautiful smile on her lips that he loved so much.

He gently brushed his fingertips along the curve of her hip, his fingers memorizing the soft features as they lay entwined together under a blanket in the tent.

The camp was silent, save for a snore coming from a tent somewhere nearby. Carol giggled softly as she buried her face against Daryl's neck as his fingers tickled her damp skin. She brushed her hand against his thigh, giving him a little squeeze as a low moan escape his throat. They were happy and satisfied, and Carol knew that she'd wake up tomorrow knowing her daughter was safe and that her family was together, and she couldn't suppress the happiness that seemed to bubble forth with each of his touches.

"That was amazing," she purred, her hand flat against his stomach, the damp warmth spreading from her fingers to his belly and warming him all the way through. He pulled her in close, his hands running over her back, feeling the curve of her spine as he placed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

"Yeah," he murmured, laying back, yawning slightly as Carol nuzzled his ear with her nose. He felt her relax against him, and he kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes as her fingers danced along his stomach. "Could be good here, y'know? With these folks for awhile."

"Yeah," she said softly. "Sophia seems happy here. I want her to be happy. Are you happy?" She looked up at him in time to see the blush fill his cheeks again.

"You're with me, ain't ya?" he asked.

"I am," she promised, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Then I'm happy. All I need I got right here."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Carol woke abruptly to the feeling of rough stubble against her stomach and a warm tongue circling her navel. She gasped, her hands flying out grasp Daryl's shoulders as she squinted into the early morning light.

"Daryl?" she gasped, as he moved up, pressing kisses between her breasts.

"Hmm?" he murmured lazily as he took a nipple between his lips, tugging gently. She bit her lower lip, her eyes rolling back momentarily as her body adjusted to such a spectacularly intense and urgent wakeup call.

"What time is it?"

"Dunno," he murmured, his tongue circling her pert little bud as she gently caressed his hair. "Maybe six thirty? Seven?"

"You couldn't sleep?"

"I slept. Then I woke up." She snorted at his playful side this morning. It wasn't something she saw often at all. He kissed her neck, sucking tenderly there as he crawled over her, his hand moving between her knees, parting her legs. She gasped softly when his fingers found her center, stroking her into a jumble of firing nerves.

"Anybody else awake?" she panted.

"Don't hear nothin'."

"Good," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her for a good morning kiss. He fell into her, pulling her leg up to hook over his hip. He reached down, gripping his dick in his hand. With a couple of strokes, he was fully hard, and he slid into her slowly, a soft mewl escaping her lips at the sensation of being filled by him.

His hands framed her face as he moved inside of her slowly, relishing the feel, memorizing the way she bit her lip, the way her lids fluttered when something felt particularly good. He couldn't help but smile when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, that dazzling smile spreading over her face before a wave of pleasure washed over her, sending her arching against the sleeping bag beneath her.

He caught her cries of pleasure in his mouth, kissing her softly, slowly, making love to her and savoring every moment, every touch, and every exquisite sigh that escaped her soft lips.

Afterward, he stroked her back, feeling the damp warmth against his fingertips, and she snuggled into him, not wanting the moment to end.

"You're with me, right?" she asked softly after a few moments. "I mean, we never…we just kind of…happened."

"Yeah," he answered, "I'm with ya. And you're with me." Carol smiled a little, kissing his chin.

"I mean, we don't…it's just that there are others now. I just want to make sure that you want…" She found herself getting tongue tied, before Daryl hushed her with a chaste kiss upon the lips.

"Hey," he whispered, his calloused thumb sweeping over her cheek. "I just want you."

"Ok," she said with a sweet smile, pressing her hand against the center of his chest. "Then we need to talk."

"I mess up already?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she chuckled. "If we're going to keep doing…_this_, we need to be smarter about it."

"Oh," he murmured. "Oh. Shit. Carol, I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she said softly. "I wasn't exactly thinking about it either. But I know you got condoms at the store that day." She watched the color of his cheeks run the gamut from pale to bright red.

"They're in one of the bags in the back of the truck."

"Okay," she said with a little nod. "Maybe keep one in your pocket, you know, just in case."

"Just in case you just gotta ravage me on a supply run, huh?" he asked, an amused grin spreading over his face.

"Oh yeah. You never know," she laughed, burying her face into his neck, happy that that awkward little conversation was over. It wasn't long before their quiet was interrupted by the sound of somebody dumping wood into the fire pit for a morning fire, and the smell of coffee soon filled the air.

They dressed quickly and made their way out of the tent to join the rest of their new group, trying to figure out exactly where they fit in the scheme of things.

"Holy shit," Glenn Rhee panted as he stared at the squirrel that fell to the ground with an arrow straight through its eye. That was the fifth one that morning, and with each one, Daryl plucked out the bolt and stuffed the little critter in a sack over his shoulder. Glenn and Hershel had accompanied Daryl on his morning hunt. Mostly, Daryl wanted to talk to Hershel about training his youngest daughter Beth with a weapon. She was eighteen, plenty old enough to start defending herself and helping defend the group. He figured that if twelve-year-old Sophia could handle a gun, then Beth Greene should be no exception.

"Just gotta know where to aim," Daryl said with a shrug, a bit amused by the younger man's surprise at his skill with a crossbow.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"Ain't my first time," Daryl muttered, wiping off the bolt. "I been teachin' Sophia how to handle weapons."

"She's just a girl," Hershel spoke up incredulously.

"Yeah, but I'd rather her know how to handle one and use it right than be just another dead girl." He spat onto the ground as they walked through the woods.

"You convinced her mama of that?" Hershel asked.

"Ain't like we wanna build a child army. Just want her to be able to protect herself." He looked over in the direction of the camp. "She almost lost her daughter, and I know she ain't willin' to risk that happenin' again." He cleared his throat. "Maggie handles a gun?"

"Maggie's a great shot," Glenn pointed out. "I taught her myself." He seemed pretty proud of that fact. "I taught her and I taught my wife. They're both good."

"So what's Beth do? Hide behind one of you when the walkers come biting?"

"My Beth's young," Hershel said quietly.

"She's eighteen. She's not a baby," Glenn muttered. Hershel eyed him.

"So you're saying you want to see your Jenna out there putting walkers down and practicing her aim on tin cans and fence posts?" Hershel asked. "That's your _baby _girl. You really want to watch her innocence fade away the second you strap a gun to her?"

"That's different," Glenn pointed out.

"Not to me it's not."

"Look," Daryl interrupted, "Beth's grown. Sophia ain't, but she's old enough to be responsible. We gotta be smart. Gotta have everybody able to handle it trained. We get into a herd, and how long you think Beth's gonna last without a weapon? You talked to her about it?"

"She watched her mama get ripped apart by those things," Hershel explained. "She doesn't need to be…"

"So you ain't talked to her about it."

"You're brand new here," Hershel warned. "You're just gonna go around putting guns in people's hands?"

"If that's what it takes to save our lives? Yeah, I guess I am." He turned and headed back toward camp, realizing that the only person he was going to have to convince to let him train Beth was Beth herself.

Carol busied herself with helping Maggie and Sarah with the laundry that morning, and by the time they got to hanging it to dry, baby Judith had worked herself up into a crying fit, and nothing Rick did could seem to sooth his fussy baby. Carol watched him walking back and forth with her desperately as some of the group looked around warily, as if expecting her cries to draw walkers from miles away, which, honestly, was a possibility.

Drying her hands on her pant legs, Carol made her way over toward Rick's tent, where he was pacing back and forth outside, bouncing the baby in his arms.

"She ok?" she asked softly.

"She does this every morning," he muttered tiredly, hoisting the baby up so her head was on his shoulder and he could pat her back.

"What are you feeding her?" she asked.

"Uh," Rick murmured, rifling through one of his packs before retrieving a can of baby formula, "this. This is what Lori fed Carl when he was born." Carol took the can in her hands and read it over. She made a soft humming sound before putting it down with a little nod.

"May I hold her?" Rick eyed her for a moment as she held her arms out, and he finally put the baby gently in her arms. Carol began rubbing the baby's tummy, and she soon quieted and began sucking at her own tiny fingers. Carol glanced up at Rick, who seemed to watch in awe as Carol soothed his daughter in a way he'd never been able to.

"How'd you do that?"

"Some babies don't do well with iron," Carol explained. "My Sophia got the worst stomach cramps when she was born, and we switched to something without iron, and she took to it like a pro." She cradled the baby tenderly in her arms. "Do you have anything else?"

"Uh, yeah," Rick said quickly, searching through the pack and pulling out a different can. He held it up to Carol and she scrutinized the label. "We got it as a backup."

"Try making her a bottle with that one." Rick looked down at his daughter and then up at Carol and then at the can of formula, figuring that anything had to be better than his daughter being in constant discomfort, so he figured it was worth a try.

Carol held the baby as he poured some bottled water into a fresh baby bottle and mixed in some of the new formula. She handed Judith over to him and watched him for a moment as he fed her. The baby took to the formula quickly, and Rick gave Carol a little nod.

"Thank you."

"Let me know if she does better with this one. I'm willing to bed it's the iron in the formula that was making her feel bad."

"I'll let you know. Thanks again." Carol nodded and gave him a little smile before heading back over to help finish hanging the laundry.

"God, thank you," Maggie muttered. "She cries like that every morning."

"I didn't even think about the formula," Sarah said softly. "Jenna was breastfed, so I didn't really have to think about that."

"Oh, when you've been up all day and night with a screaming baby, you never forget what it was that made your baby feel so bad." She looked over toward the tree line just as Daryl, Glenn and Hershel walked out. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him stalking toward the camp.

"He's yours, huh?" Sarah asked with a little smile.

"Mine?" Carol asked nonchalantly. She couldn't help but smile and the blush that spread across her face. Sarah and Maggie both laughed and looked at each other knowingly.

"He's your husband, right?"

"Husband?! No," Carol explained. "No, we met after…after everything." She gave a little shrug. "If it wasn't for him, Sophia and I probably wouldn't be here. He's…well, he's important."

"Uh-huh," Sarah said with a grin. "I've seen the way he looks at you. You're important, too." Carol blushed at that, and the three women had a good laugh. Carol looked up to see Daryl's eyes on her, and he nodded his head. She cleared her throat and put up the last piece of laundry in the basket.

"Excuse me, ladies." She turned and walked off to a chorus of Sarah and Maggie's laughter. She headed over to the pickup truck, where Daryl was rifling through the glove box to find one of the pistols. "Whatcha doing?"

"Gonna talk to Beth," he muttered.

"With a gun?"

"What?" he asked, looking at the pistol in his hand and then up at her. "No. I…I'm gonna teach her how to use it."

"What's her dad have to say about that?"

"He's not on board, but I think he'd rather have a daughter that can protect herself than a daughter who's just…walker bait." Carol crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, I'm sure that's true. Did you just go in throwing around your opinion, or did you actually talk to him?" Daryl eyed her and leaned against the truck, pulling a cigarette out of his breast pocket. He flicked the lighter and took a long drag. His gaze poured into hers, and she like her knees had turned into jelly.

"Shit," he muttered. "Probably ain't makin' the best first impression, huh?" Carol gave him a little grin and turned to lean against the truck next to him, nudging his shoulder with her own. "A'right. I'll talk to him. Just…feels like I'm talkin' to my grandpa or somethin'."

"Put yourself in his shoes. Say it was _your_ daughter somebody was wanting to teach how to use a gun so they can shoot walking corpses in the head."

"Sounds like somebody's damn nightmare," he muttered. "When the hell'd the world turn into a damn horror movie, anyway?" He took another puff on his cigarette. "Fine. I'll talk to him. But he still ain't gonna like it."

"Well, it's not up to him. It's up to Beth. She's old enough to choose for herself, and if it was me, I'd wanna know how to protect myself and the people I love." Daryl nodded. He took another drag off of his cigarette, and at that point, Hershel came walking over. Carol gave Daryl's arm a little nudge to get his attention.

"I thought about it," Hershel said quietly, scratching his finely trimmed beard. "You're right. I'd rather have my Beth able to protect herself. I won't be around forever." He shifted nervously. "If you're half as good with a pistol as you are with a bow, then you're the one I'd want teachin' her." Daryl gave him a little nod. "She's eighteen, but she's…delicate. She's very emotional. That's why I had my reservations about her learning. My Maggie's good with a gun, but she's always been the strong one. I never had to worry as much for her as I did for Beth." Daryl gave the man a nod, and Hershel turned to walk away, stopping and turning back to look at Daryl. "You teach her what you know. I don't want some half-hearted instruction. I want her to know what you know." When the old man was out of earshot, Daryl let out a breath, and Carol linked her fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Maybe your first impressions are better than you think," she murmured softly. He snorted and took one last drag off his cigarette before turning to press into her, backing her into the side of the truck, his sudden display of confidence making her gasp before she relaxed and smiled up at him when his cheeks filled with blood at his own sudden bravery. She laughed as his fingers skimmed the edge of her jeans, tickling the soft skin there. "You've got things to do."

"Can think of more things I'd rather be doin' than teachin' some spoiled daddy's girl to shoot a pistol." He brushed his lips over hers, and she reciprocated the kiss before gently pushing him back.

"Well…maybe I'll go with you. Could be fun." He chuckled and kissed her once more. "Besides, I'd like to get some more practice in. We'll take Sophia. Make a day of it."

"Sounds good," he said with a little grunt, giving her ass a little squeeze.

"Think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours?" Her tongue darted out over her lower lip as his heated gaze bore into hers.

"Dunno. Might be hard." He pressed into her, and she knew _exactly _what he meant.

"Tease," she giggled. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pressed her finger against his lips, her mouth parting teasingly before she ducked out from his grasp. "I should check on Sophia." She crinkled her nose at him, and he watched as she turned and walked away, her hips swinging a little more than they usually did, which let him know that show was all for him. He pulled another cigarette out of his breast pocket and lit up, leaning back against the truck and watching her walk away, a smirk curling at his lips. _Now who's a tease?_

_Author's Note: To the person who told me they would no longer be reading because I made Beth 18 instead of 16 in this fic, that's fine. But if you've been reading this story all the way through, you should be able to figure out that Carol is it for Daryl, and Beth would NEVER even be a blip on his radar. But, ok. _


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_Author's Note: I apologize in advance if my writing of Beth isn't exactly up to par. I've made it a point to avoid writing her every chance I get in my fics, so I'm treading into different territory here. I'm not a Beth fan, so that also may come across in my writing, but I will try not to let it cloud the characterization too much. _

_Also, please note that my inclusion of Beth in this story does not mean she will be an obstacle for Caryl. She will not be a love interest for Daryl. She is 18. He's mid-40s. They have nothing in common except for being the prey of the undead. Besides, if you've been reading this story, you'll know that Daryl and Carol are all about each other. So please don't think that just because Beth is being introduced into the story that that means that she automatically will be a threat to Caryl. Will she have a crush on Daryl? Maybe? But does that mean he will feel the same? Absolutely not! So there is no need for any Daryl/other warnings, because this story is strictly Daryl/Carol, all the way._

Given the fact that Daryl and Carol were still strangers to the group, Rick decided, for Hershel's peace of mind, to tag along, and they would postpone moving on for another day. As Daryl's pickup bounced down a bumpy dirt trail, Carol and Sophia sat in the cab with him, while Beth, Rick and Carl sat in the bed. From what Rick had explained to Daryl, Carl was already quite the skilled shooter, but they had plenty of ammo, and there was a gun store they'd spotted a few miles off from the camp site that seemed relatively unbothered. They could spare the ammo for the sake of practice.

Daryl pulled the truck out in the center of a weed-infested old corn field. Carol was the first one out of the truck, taking a sack full of empty food cans over to line them up along the fence. Rick checked Carol's pistol over before handing it to him, and Daryl grabbed one for Sophia, making certain it was loaded and ready for use. Beth followed Daryl around next to the truck, her eyes wide with wonder as he dug through a bag and produced a pistol almost identical to Sophia's.

"You can use this one." He grabbed a box of bullets and proceeded to open the chamber. "Watch." Beth watched as he slowly went over how to load it and snapped the chamber back into place. He moved behind her, reaching around and placing it in her hands. She was shaking.

"I can't do this," she protested. "I ain't never shot a gun in my life."

"You're gonna have to learn," he pointed out.

"Done alright so far," she said with a shrug.

"Hidin' behind somebody else is only gonna get you so far. What happens when those people you stand behind ain't there to shoot for ya anymore?" Beth gave a little nod, and Daryl placed her finger over the trigger.

Carol made her way back over to stand next to the two of them, taking her own gun out. Daryl lined up Beth's arms, and Carol held her own gun poised.

"Little higher," Carol encouraged. "Keep a good hold on the grip." Daryl raised Beth's arms a little higher, and the girl chewed her lip before blowing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. "Right. Even."

"Watch Carol," Daryl instructed, holding Beth's arms where they were. Beth turned her head to watch as Carol planted her feet firmly in a casual stance, lined up her shot, took a breath and squeezed the trigger, easily sending one can careening off the fence and into the tall grass.

"That was amazing," Beth murmured, in awe of Carol's abilities.

"Takes practice to get that good," he pointed out. Carol gave Beth an encouraging smile.

"Don't think about it. Don't stress it. Just breathe and squeeze."

"Breathe and squeeze," Beth noted with a little nod. "Can I try?" She looked up at Daryl eagerly, and he nodded, firming his grip on her arms as he steadied her.

"What you aimin' for?"

"The big can. Easy target."

"Good," Daryl said with a nod. "Take a deep breath."

"Don't close your eyes," Carol said with an amused grin. "You need to see what you're shooting at."

"Right. Sorry." Beth gave her an apologetic smile before firming her stance on the ground and eyeing her target. She took a deep, slow breath and leaned back slightly, squeezing the trigger and releasing the shot. It disappeared somewhere past the fence, and she frowned. "I suck."

A walker came stumbling out of the trees, and Rick went to grab for his gun.

"I've got it," Carol assured him, grabbing the rifle out of the back of the truck. In one swift movement, she strapped the rifle across her chest, took aim and fired, unloading the shot into the walker's skull from several yards away.

"She's good," Beth murmured. "Can you teach me to be that good?"

"If you're willin' to learn," Daryl said quietly, unable to take his eyes off of Carol, as she grabbed a pair of binoculars and climbed up into the bed of the truck to keep a look out.

"Daryl?" Beth's voice broke his concentration.

"Huh?"

"Can I try again?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "Sure." He let go of her arms and stepped away. "Try it on your own. You gotta get a feel of it." She nodded and focused her concentration on her line of sign. She squeezed the trigger again, and the bullet put a hole in one of the fence rails but didn't hit the can. "Better. Keep tryin'."

"You did good today," Carol said with a smile, as she and Beth packed the guns up in the duffel bag in the back of Daryl's truck.

"I was awful," Beth said with a grin. "Daryl's a good teacher, but I kind of suck."

"You don't," Carol laughed. "You did fine for a beginner, and you'll get better with time and practice."

"It felt good," Beth mused. "I'm not saying it's something I wanna have to learn, because I wish things would just go back the way they were before. But if this is the world we gotta live in now, it feels good, not havin' to rely on my daddy for everything." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not like Maggie. Don't think I'll ever be like Maggie."

"That's ok," Carol said gently. She put her hand on the girl's shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's ok."

"Hey, Beth!" Carl called from nearby. Beth gave him a little waved and looked a bit mortified.

"What's wrong?"

"Carl's got a crush on me," she groaned. Carol smiled at that. "He's twelve, Carol."

"That's sweet."

"It's not. Not when it's literally…the end of the world, and the only guy close to your age isn't even old enough to…to get into a PG-13 movie. If there were movies anymore." She rolled her eyes.

"Honey, you know that saying? There are plenty of fish in the sea?"

"Yeah," Beth groaned.

"Well, the sea might be more…more of a pond now, but I'm sure there are more people left."

"Yeah. A pond in the middle of a sea of walking dead people. Well, the bright side is, I'll probably die before I have to worry about being an old maid." Carol squeezed her shoulder.

"Don't say that. Don't let your daddy hear you say that, either. Alright? The most important thing is surviving, alright?" Beth nodded. "You survive, you help your family survive, and you fight like hell to make sure you're still breathing come morning."

"How did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you keep breathing? All this time since the turn? Just you and Sophia and Daryl?"

"We pulled together. We became a family," she said softly, a little smile playing over her lips. "We made it work." Beth looked over her shoulder at Daryl and then back at Carol. "You just stick together and fight like hell to live." Beth's gaze faltered, and she looked over toward Rick and Carl, who were deep in conversation about something.

"My mom…she said we should stick together," Beth said quietly. "When it happened. When the world changed. I didn't listen. I went outside to feed my horse, and those…those things came at us. My mom ran out of the house, and she…" She looked away.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I just keep thinking that if I'd just listened to her…she'd still be here." She glanced over at Sophia, who was laughing at something Daryl was telling her. "Your daughter's lucky. She got her mom back."

"Honey, if you ever need to talk, I know we don't really know each other, but…" Beth took a deep breath and nodded quickly, apparently ready to avoid the rest of this conversation.

"We best be getting back. My dad worries." She gave Carol a little half shrug.

"Sure. Hop in, and I'll get the others." Beth pulled herself into the truck bed, and Carol made her way over to Daryl, who was re-stringing his crossbow. She stepped up beside him, and he glanced at her for a moment. "We should be getting back."

"Yeah. S'gettin' late."

"Beth's going to be ok, I think," Carol murmured.

"She's an alright shot, but she's got a ways to go 'fore she can hold her own." Carol nodded in agreement. "We'll take her out again in a few days."

"We?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He flashed a little grin at her, slinging his bow back over his shoulder before brushing her cheek with his thumb and leaning in to whisper into her ear.

"You got no idea how fuckin' hot you look when you're shootin' that gun," he murmured, raising a blush in her cheeks. She chuckled as he dipped down for a quick kiss before being interrupted by Rick.

"Uh, sorry," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just wanted to thank the both of you for doing this. We have to be stronger as a group, and I think we just took a big step in that direction today."

"Somebody's gotta do it," Daryl murmured, awkwardly accepting Rick's handshake when the man extended his hand. "We're headin' back."

"Sure. Looks like the clouds are comin' in," Rick muttered, looking up at the sky. Daryl looked up and then shrugged his shoulder.

"Nah. It'll pass." He tossed Carol the keys.

"I'm driving?"

"Why not?"

"Oh, this is your way of seeing how I handle the off roads," she snorted. "Well, I'll show you, Daryl Dixon. I'm a very good driver."

"Oh, I believe it," he said suggestively. _She knows how to handle a stick. _ He cringed inwardly at his thought, especially given the way it sounded so very much like his older brother Merle when it echoed through his brain.

"Can I drive?" Sophia asked with a big grin, getting an eyebrow raise from her mother.

"Oh, somebody's feeling better," Carol teased.

"You ain't drivin' 'til you're thirty," Daryl chuckled.

"Says who?" Sophia balked.

"Says the man whose truck you'd be wreckin' into the nearest tree." Daryl's comment got a laugh out of Carl, who ducked as his father whipped the sheriff's hat off his head and placed it on his own.

"Can I ride in the back?" Sophia asked hopefully, eyeing Carl as he hopped into the truck bed.

"Sure. Just stay seated," Carol said with a shrug.

"Yeah, and hold on for dear life," Daryl joked.

"Daryl Dixon, you're asking for it," Carol laughed, making a face at him as Sophia hurried off to join her friend. "What's gotten into you today?"

"What?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I don't see this side of you very much. I like it." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Come on. Let's head home." As they walked back to the truck, she was a little surprised when he reached out for her hand and linked her fingers with his. She hadn't been prepared for such public displays of affection. The last person on earth she'd expected that from was Daryl. She didn't mind at all, but she knew he was a little out of his comfort zone. She saw the tops of his ears turn red, and she brushed her thumb over his knuckles. "You ok today?"

"Fine," he said with a shrug. "Guess it's just nice to have a good day."

"Yeah," she grinned, "it is."

"Forty," Daryl said out of the blue, plopping down in a chair between Carol and Sophia at the campsite that night.

"What?" Sophia asked, popping a piece of nearly-burnt fish into her mouth.

"After seein' your mama handle the trail today, I'm sayin' forty. You drive anything like her, and we got a problem." He was met with a playful slap from Carol, who eyed him as she ate from her own plate.

"Thanks, Mom," Sophia laughed. Carol sobered for a moment, her heart welling with joy at the sound of her daughter's laughter, something she'd sorely been missing.

"Oh, no, I have a better idea," Carol said with a shrug. "Daryl, since you're the know-it-all when it comes to cars, you get to teach her."

"Me?" he choked out. "Hell no. I don't teach drivin'."

"You just teach shooting?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll take her out shootin' anyday. Just don't put me in the passenger's seat." Carol snorted at that, and Sophia shook her head.

"You guys are crazy. Mama, I'm tired. I'm gonna go read before I go to sleep."

"Sure, sweetheart. You might put on a sweater. It's getting chilly." Sophia nodded and hurried off toward Dale's RV, while Daryl peered over toward Rick, who had his sights focused slightly to Daryl's left. Daryl poked the fire with a stick, eyeing Rick until Rick realized he was being watched. When he realized he was caught, he ducked his head and turned his attention back to his son. Daryl snorted and shook his head.

"What?"

"I think ya got an admirer."

"What are you talking about?" Carol asked, taking the last bite of food off of her plate. Daryl nodded toward Rick, who was now completely focused on not looking over in their direction. "What? Please tell me you're joking."

"I get it," he murmured. "You impressed him today. You shocked the hell outta Beth. Don't think these folks are used to seein' someone as strong and powerful as you are." Carol felt herself blushing at his compliment. "Ya handle a gun better'n some men, and you ain't had a whole hell of a lot of practice."

"Yeah, well, it's no reason to stare," she murmured.

"Sure it is," he murmured, his own gaze passing over her. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Stop it." She blushed and made a face at him, and he licked his lips. He put his plate down and stood, sucking the last bits of juice from the meat off of his fingers before holding his hand out to her.

"C'mon." She took his hand quickly and stood to follow him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, following him quickly toward their tent. He said nothing until they were inside, and he zipped them inside. When he turned to her, he pulled her into his arms, and she moaned softly when he kissed her. "What are you doing?"

"Showin' ya exactly what I been wantin' to do since the second you went all GI Jane in the field this mornin'."

"Men," she giggled as he snorted a laugh against her neck and pulled her down to the ground to show her exactly what it was he'd been wanting to do all day.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Look, I wasn't sure 'bout it at first, either, but Carol's right. You gotta admit it's a good idea. We get behind walls, we're gonna have a chance to re-build, maybe even plant crops." Daryl and Rick walked the banks of the river they were currently camped next to. After a couple of weeks of driving around, parking along highways to camp, they'd settled by the river to have at least one natural wall of defense for a few days.

"It's a good plan," Rick said with a nod. "Carol's smart. But I gotta tell ya, Shane ain't gonna go along with it, and he's got Andrea on his side."

"Why the hell's it matter? He wants to stay on the road. What's he runnin' from?" Daryl muttered, kicking a clump of dirt and watching dust fly everywhere before settling along the damp grass.

"Shane's never been one to stay in one spot."

"Good for him. But I got a family to look after," Daryl said pointedly. "I mean…we lost Sophia once. We get behind walls, we can stay put."

"You think I haven't thought of that?" Rick balked. "I got my own kids to worry 'bout, but we gotta be on the same page. We gotta stick together, or we're all gonna fall apart." Daryl sighed heavily, his knuckles white around his rifle as they walked.

"Say we just go and take a look? See if there's a place we can get into. If we gotta go in shootin', so be it. We clear it out, we patch up walls, and we see if we can make a go of it."

"It's a good plan. A great plan. We just gotta get everybody on board."

"Everybody's on board with livin' ain't they?" Daryl asked. "You gotta talk to Shane. He ain't said but two things to me since we got here, so I ain't expectin' I'll change his mind. But you can." Daryl turned and headed back toward the camp. "Somebody's gotta take charge, and ya can't have two leaders pullin' the group apart."

Carol was doting on baby Judith as she sat by Rick's tent. Sophia had asked to watch her but had quickly grown bored and run off to help Carl and Maggie gather more wood. She was alright with it, though, because it had been a very long time since she'd had little one to hold and cuddle, and as she sat there rocking her back and forth and humming a lullaby, a shadow blocked her light, and she peered up to see Shane Walsh standing over her, his expression unreadable. She considered him for a moment. To Carol, Shane was wild, unpredictable. She had seen his short fuse temper a couple of times. He'd gotten after Carl for making too much noise when helping collect wood one day. He'd even gotten on Dale for dropping his binoculars on top of the RV during look out. Shane wasn't someone she particularly enjoyed crossing paths with.

"You're good with kids," he murmured. The way his gaze fell on Carol made her a little uncomfortable.

"I don't think I've held a baby since Sophia was this size," she said with a little shrug, kissing the top of Judith's fuzzy head. "You tryin' to be the den mother or somethin'?"

"I'm not trying to be anybody's mother except for Sophia's," Carol pointed out, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I see the way you dote over Judith and Carl, get Rick in your good graces, make him see your point of view." His voice was low, his eyes fixed on hers in a way that made her skin crawl. "He looks at you like the sun shines in your eyes, and you bat your eyes at him. Yeah, you women are all the same."

"I don't know who you think you're talking to, Shane, but I don't appreciate the tone." She stood up and cradled Judith close.

"Yeah. Wonder if Daryl sees the way you flirt with Rick?"

"Flirt?" Carol asked, her jaw set. His accusing tone had her on edge, and she knew Judith could sense her uneasiness in the way the baby began to fuss as she felt Carol's heart beating faster in her chest.

"Wonder if he knows? Yeah, maybe he does. Maybe he asked ya to do it to try and win over the boss. Get him on your side. Get him thinkin' that your ideas might be best for _our_ group. Yeah, maybe that's it."

"Somethin' goin' on?" Daryl stepped out from seemingly out of nowhere, and Shane's gaze didn't leave Carol's. They were locked in on each other, and Daryl didn't quite like the vibe he was picking up on. "Carol?"

"It's fine," she said shortly. Daryl eyed Shane, and Shane drew his gaze up to Daryl's face.

"It's nothin' man. Just a bad judgment call is all." He smirked and walked off, leaving Daryl and Carol together with a fussy Judith.

"The hell was that about?"

"An ass being an ass," Carol muttered, the sting of Shane's words still tingling the red in her cheeks, as if Shane had slapped her hard across the face.

"What'd he say to you?" Daryl asked quietly, stepping toward her, as if creating an heir of privacy for just the two of them. She shook her head.

"It's nothing. I don't like that man."

"Carol? You need a break? I can take Judith for a little bit," Beth offered, peeking out from Dale's RV, where she'd been going over with Andrea exactly how to clean each type of gun.

"You sure? She's getting kind of fussy."

"Sure. I could use some baby time. It's a lot more fun than playing with guns," Beth said with an eye roll. Carol smiled a little and nodded. "Alright. She's due for another bottle soon. I already have one made up in the bag."

"Sure thing," Beth said with a grin, taking Judith in her arms and holding her close. She cooed down at the baby and gently caressed her tiny fingers. Carol gave Beth a knowing grin. Beth never passed on baby time, and as soon as that baby was in her arms, she was totally enamored. Daryl nodded toward the tent and walked off with Carol right behind him.

"What'd he say to you?" The words fell from his lips before they were even inside the tent. When he ducked in, she ducked in after.

"It's not important."

"You looked upset. It's important." His voice was low, his eyes were trained on hers, and he looked like he was ready to jump out of his own skin.

"Daryl…just…"

"Tell me."

"It's going to piss you off. But you have to promise me that you won't do anything about it." Daryl said nothing, and she took a deep breath. "Shane accused me of…flirting with Rick to somehow get on his side." She saw Daryl's fingers twitch as they curled up into a balled fist. "And he thinks it's your idea to get on Rick's good side. I don't know if he's jealous that you have Rick's ear, or if he's upset that we're new and we're sharing ideas, but he's not happy." Daryl stared at her, and he said nothing, so Carol gently reached out and brushed her fingertips over his hand. "Daryl?"

"He ever says that shit to you again, I'll…"

"Stop," Carol urged. "Just…stop. We have a good group here, and Shane's going to have to learn that he can't bully people around. I've seen the way some of them look at him. They're afraid, and they shouldn't be. Rick's a good man, and I don't want to make things difficult for him."

"I don't fuckin' care. He don't have a right to talk to you like that." Daryl huffed and started out of the tent, but Carol gripped his arm and tugged him back.

"Stop. It's what he wants. He wants us to make things difficult. He wants us to cause a scene, because it gives him something to show the rest of the group, to sway them. He wants control. That's obvious. We can't let him have that." Carol's words were soft and assuring, but all Daryl wanted to go do was rip the smug grin off of Shane's face.

"I ain't gonna let him talk to you like that. I catch him disrespectin' you like that, and I'll knock his teeth out." Carol brought her arms around his shoulders, and she held him until she felt him relax a little.

"You're a good man, Daryl. Don't let someone like Shane get to you. He's scared. He's grasping for power that he knows he doesn't have." She stroked the side of his face. "Now come on."  
>"Come on where?"<p>

"I know a place," she said coyly, standing on her toes to kiss his lips gently. "It's a surprise."

"I gotta bring anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. Just yourself," she assured him. She took his hand in hers and led him out of the tent. "You need to cool off." She gave him a small smile before leading him out of the tent, only to have Sophia smack right into her. "Oh!"

"Hi Mom," Sophia giggled, her cheeks pink as she gasped for breath.

"Soph, you ok?" Daryl asked, nudging her in on the shoulder.

"Yeah. Just finished getting the firewood with Carl and Maggie. Mom? Carl and his dad are gonna go fishing. Can I go?"

"Will you stay with Rick and do what he says?"

"Yes," Sophia said impatiently, bouncing on her heels. Carol smiled and gave her daughter a quick hug.

"Go have fun."

"Thanks Mom!" Sophia exclaimed, already halfway across the lot.

"Where'd she get all that energy?" Daryl asked with a chuckle.

"Isn't it obvious? She's got a crush on Carl."

"What?"

"I'm afraid she'll be heartbroken though," Carol said with a wistful shake of the head.

"Why's that?"

"Carl only has eyes for Beth. Didn't you see him toss that frog at her the other day? It's totally love" she said with an eye roll a giggle, sliding her arms around his waist.

"Ah. Kids. Where are we goin'?"

"Mmm," she murmured, kissing him once more, "somewhere close but private, and if you're lucky…" She raised an eyebrow and squeezed his hand.

"Yeah?"

"I might just throw a couple frogs at you myself." Daryl snorted at that and pulled her into another kiss before eagerly following her out of the tent and off for a little privacy to get his mind off of power plays and petty jealousy.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Carol's private place was a small fishing dock—probably made by some old fisherman that didn't want anybody honing in on his catches—that she'd found hidden away in a thick overgrowth of weeds and cat tails. She'd spread a blanket out there earlier, hoping to bring Daryl to this place where they could have some privacy and listen to the sounds of the water lazily passing under the wooden stilts and make love without the worry that someone might come barging in their tent at any second to ask for help with something.

Daryl lay flat on his back staring up at the cloudy sky, his gaze dancing along the outlines of the clouds. In his mind, he played the age-old childhood game of making out shapes of elephants and race cars and dinosaurs in the fluffy white pillows in the sky. When her hand skimmed over his bare chest, he closed his eyes and sighed softly, moving to link his fingers with hers.

"I never asked you about your scars," she said gently, resting her chin in the center of his chest, drawing lazy circles on his skin with her fingertips. He sighed and opened his eyes, peering up and picturing a razor sharp belt lashing through the air. He winced slightly when her finger traced over one of the scars that curled around onto his side like a parasite living under his skin.

"Bet you had a good dad," Daryl said gently, folding his arms behind his head. Carol sat up a little, propping her chin in one hand.

"I did," she said with a fond, sad smile and a look in her eyes that was far away, years away. "I miss him."

"Don't miss mine," he murmured, a long, slow breath curling from his lips. He took a few shaky breaths, memories of cuts and bruises and awkwardly fumbling through explanations at school every Monday morning when the teacher asked him with that nervous expectation in her voice, as if hoping he wouldn't tell her the truth and get her involved in some kind of CPS nightmare. He never told her the truth, and he was certain she was grateful for that.

He visibly tensed as his breath caught in his chest, and Carol's eyes sparkled as her gaze took in every inch of his face.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I shouldn't have…I didn't…," she said softly, leaning forward to gently brush a wisp of hair out of his face. He smoothed his hand up her arm, reaching to thread his fingers in her short hair.

"I want ya to know," he murmured softly, bringing her down toward him for a kiss. "The scars…they're just part of who I am. But so are you." Her face snapped up toward his, and he saw the question linger in her eyes. She gave him a little smile and curled up against him, her bare breasts pressing against his side as she draped a leg over his and reveled in the feel of his warmth pressed against her own.

"Wasn't always like that," he said quietly. "I remember my dad bein' my hero. But he started drinkin' and got mean when he drank. He wasn't the same after that."

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, resting her head against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. She closed her eyes and gently rubbed his side as if trying to soothe away years of pain that she wished someone had been able to spare him from.

"S'alright."

"It's not," she sniffled. "I hate to think of you in pain. I hate that it happened to you." She swallowed hard and took a couple of slow breaths. "Ed raised his hand to me once. I told him if he hit me, I'd take Sophia and he'd never see us again. He put his hand down and walked away." She shrugged a little. "I was a grown woman. You were just a boy. It's not fair, Daryl." He gently rubbed her back, and she snuggled closer to him, and those words, those three words he wanted to say so badly danced along his lips, lingering as his heart and his brain started their tiring race to see which one could convince him first.

Then the moment passed when a walker stumbled somewhere on the other side of the river, and Carol shot straight up, reaching for her pistol. Daryl sat up quickly and put his hand over hers, lowering the weapon.

"No need. They ain't gettin' over here."

"And a gunshot would just draw out more." She sighed tiredly, pulling her shirt over her head as Daryl reached for his pants.

"Thanks." He glanced up at her, and she gave him a tiny, amused smile. "Not for the sex. I mean, that…was great. I mean…thanks. For bringin' me here, I mean. It's nice. Quiet." Carol chuckled softly and slid her pants up her legs before leaning over to kiss him.

"We'll have to do it again sometime." She crooked her eyebrow at him suggestively. "And I _did_ mean the sex." Daryl snorted at that and zipped his fly before pulling his boots on. "Come on, Pookie." He narrowed his eyes at her as she walked off.

"Pookie?" he whispered to himself. He shook his head, the tiniest smile playing over his lips, and he followed after her, that smile turning into a full-blown grin in seconds.

When night fell on the camp, everybody hovered around the low fire as the temperature dropped quickly. Sarah Rhee had gone to bed an hour ago with the onset of a migraine. Glenn held his sleepy daughter Jenna in his arms, while baby Judith suckled at her bottle as Maggie attempted to feed her. Andrea and Shane spoke quietly to one another, heads bowed low, and every once in a while, Carol caught a glimpse of Andrea looking in her direction. It made her uneasy, but she tried to ignore it. She and Daryl sat side by side, and her arm was curled around his waist as they huddled together to stay warm. Sophia, exhausted from the day's fishing excursion, had retired to Dale's RV to sleep, while Dale sat sipping a hot cup of coffee and exchanging stories about the past with Hershel.

Rick Grimes was quiet tonight, his gaze fixed on the fire as he sipped at his coffee and the wisps of steam spun in the air like pinwheels in the wind.

Beth sat with her back against a tree stump, her feet warming by the fire as she scribbled in her diary. Carl Grimes was close by, watching her, getting little eye rolls out of her when she caught him.

"Poor kid," Daryl chuckled, digging a stick into the ground as he felt Carol's arm tighten around him. "Like a damn soap opera or somethin'."

"I guess some things don't change, even at the end of the world," Carol mused, leaning her head on Daryl's shoulder.

"You cold?"

"Getting warmer," she murmured, yawning tiredly.

"Wanna go to bed?"

"Let's stay up a little longer." She looked upward at the sky, where millions of stars were painted across total blackness. "Look at it."

"Hmm?"

"It's so dark," she said softly. "No light casting off the big cities. No airplane lights. Nothing. It's still. It's quiet. It's…pure." She let out a slow breath, the cool air catching it and turning it to steam. Daryl watched her, watched the way her eyes sparkled the reflection of the stars, and he turned her face toward his with the gentle pressure of his hand. Her gaze locked on his, and he leaned in, kissing her softly, oblivious to the stares and the knowing grins around the fire. Watching her put him at ease. Despite all of his knowledge of guns and crossbows and hunting and staying alive, _she _was his safety.

When Carol eased back a little, a smile slipped across her face. Everybody went back to not watching the two and pretending they hadn't seen a thing, and Rick Grimes stood up, placing his empty cup in the washing bucket for morning dishes.

"I'm beat. Gonna get some sleep. We ought to start coming up with a game plan for the colder months. Gets much colder, we're gonna need walls." Rick nodded in Carol and Daryl's general direction and reached down to take baby Judith from Maggie. Carol noticed the way Shane's gaze followed Rick back to his tent before it locked on hers, and she turned away. She gave Daryl's shoulder a nudge.

"Let's turn in," she offered. Daryl's gaze flashed toward Shane, who looked away quickly, and Carol saw Daryl visibly tense up. "Hey. It doesn't matter. Let's go to bed." She stood and waited for him to follow, which he did, but not before giving Shane the shittiest look he could possibly muster. He could respect Rick Grimes for everything he was trying to do for this group, but he could not figure out how a man like Rick could be friends with a man like Shane. They were opposites, and Shane had the look in his eyes like he was close to spinning out of control. No, Daryl didn't like him at all.

Carol sighed softly in her sleep, and Daryl gently stroked her hair, feeling her relax against him. He hadn't slept a wink. All he could do was think about what Carol had said to him about Shane and about the way Shane had looked at them. Hate was a rather strong word to throw around, but to say he hated Shane wouldn't be much of a stretch. He didn't really know the guy, but a man who would disrespect a woman the way he did to Carol surely didn't have many endearing qualities about him.

The tent shifted back and forth as the wind picked up outside. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, alerting Daryl that a storm was brewing, and he pulled his arms tighter around Carol. He was restless, and he didn't want to wake her, but he had a bad feeling that something was stirring in the camp and that something might just have something to do with Shane Walsh.

And then the tingling sensation hit him, and he groaned, gently rolling Carol off onto her own side of the sleeping bag, and he pulled his boots on, creeping out of the tent to find a place to take a piss.

He chose a nearby tree and relieved himself, shivering as the wind dropped the temperature considerably. When he was finished, he stuffed himself back in his pants and turned toward the tent only to find Andrea standing in his way. She was still dressed with her gun holster around her waist and her boot knife laced in tightly.

"The hell you doin' out here?" he muttered, peering around for any sight of Shane. He heard nothing, he saw nothing, and that left him feeling oddly unsettled.

"You're new here," she said with a half-smile. "You weren't here with us when the group first got together. Rick and Shane, they're the reason we're still here. They worked together, and they kept as many of us alive as they could. Yeah, some died along the way, but the rest of us? We're here. We've done just fine on the road."

"And my family done just fine havin' walls."

"Until those walls burned down," Andrea pointed out.

"Don't matter. We were safe. And we can be safe again. Out here? We're just fuckin' fish in a barrel."

"We have a perimeter."

"A bunch of tin cans strung up on fishin' line? That's bullshit," Daryl muttered.

"What's bullshit is you and your girlfriend coming in here and trying to take over. Shane and Rick got us this far."

"We ain't tryin' to do nothin'. If Shane's got somethin' to say, he can say it to me himself. Don't need to use you to do it for him." Andrea rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

"Why are you here?" she asked. "You don't respect the way we do things. You want us to change, do it your way. Do it _her_ way. If you don't like it, why don't you just leave?"

"I got more to think about than myself," he pointed out. "And why the hell are you here? Ain't none of my god damned business, is it? My family ain't goin' nowhere. _I_ ain't goin' nowhere, lady, and you can tell Shane that if he's that threatened, he can take it up with me himself, but he sure as hell better not come near my family." He stepped closer to her. "The only reason your group ain't behind walls right now is 'cause Rick _respects_ Shane and what he wants. Can you say the same for your boyfriend?" He watched Andrea's gaze falter as she took a step backward, and he scoffed. "Didn't think so." He turned back toward his tent , glancing over his shoulder briefly before shaking his head in disgust.

As he pulled himself back inside the tent and stretched out next to Carol, he glanced over at her, peering through the darkness, seeing how still and peaceful she was. Since they'd found Sophia, her nightmares had slowly stopped, and she no longer woke up crying for her little girl. She knew she was safer now, she knew Sophia was ok, and she seemed happy. But with Shane's jealousy over the new members of the group, it was pretty obvious things weren't going to be good for long. It was time to make a choice. Leave the group and let them sort out their power struggle issues or take charge and try and save their lives.

He sighed, shifting to get comfortable, and he closed his eyes, his hand seeking out hers in the darkness. He felt her fingers curl instinctively around his, and she moaned softly in her sleep. He ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand, counting the soft strokes against her skin to lull himself to sleep. And just as he was being pulled under, a shrill scream pierced the darkness, startling him back to awareness as Carol shot up next to him.

"Oh God," she murmured, her hands frantically searching for a flashlight. "Sophia?!" The scream filled the air again, and moments later, another scream. Carol scrambled out of the tent just as little Jenna Rhee came tearing across the camp and ran right into her legs. Carol knelt down, shining the light on the child, seeing the blood all over her as tears ran down her cheeks. "Jenna? Jenna! Are you hurt, sweetheart." The child sniffled and cried and buried her face against Carol's shoulder.

"What happened?" Daryl asked, coming out of the tent, gun in hand. Shadows moved over the land, and he couldn't make out much of anything. Carol quickly picked up Jenna and held her close, shining the flashlight over toward the other tents in time to see a herd of walkers swarming the camp from every direction.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Warning: Multiple character deaths.

"Oh God," Carol murmured, her entire body trembling as Daryl shined the light back and forth over the camp. Daryl's hand shot out to her arm, and she turned to him, their eyes meeting.

"Get her in the truck," he offered quietly, his voice shaking, his hand trembling against her arm. Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.

"Take her."

"What?"

"Take her!" she shouted. She passed Jenna over into Daryl's arms. "Get her in the truck. I have to…"

"Wait!" Daryl hollered, but Carol was already sprinting toward Dale's RV, where Sophia began to scream at the top of her lungs. Carol's heart pounded in her chest, her lungs burning as she fought back tears, gripping her gun tightly in her hand as she fired a bullet into a stray walker's skull before reaching the RV. The door was swinging on its hinges as sounds of a struggle came from inside.

"Sophia!" Carol screamed.

"Mom!" Sophia cried out, her face appearing at one of the windows, eyes wide with a terror like Carol had never seen before. She pulled herself through the door, seeing Dale sprawled out on the floor, eyes wide as blood spurted from his neck. The walker that was currently devouring him paid Carol no mind and didn't even notice when she put a gun to the back of its head and pulled the trigger. Sophia jumped and hid her face as pieces of skull and brain matter went flying, coating everything nearby.

Wiping the walker muck off her hands, Carol reached for her daughter.

"Come on," she urged, as Sophia balled herself up on the booth seat at the table.

"He's dead," Sophia sniffled.

"We're not," Carol urged. "Come on, Soph. We have to go. _Now_!" At that moment, Daryl came tearing into the trailer.

"Come on," he urged, pulling himself over Dale's body and picking Sophia up into his arms. She was surprisingly light for such a tall girl, and she was shaking like a scared rabbit. "I got ya, Soph. I got ya." Carol pointed her gun at Dale's forehead, as Daryl carried Sophia out of the RV, and the shot echoed painfully through the camper.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured as a silence settled over them. "I'm so sorry." And then she was off, keeping close to Daryl as he rushed Sophia to the truck. Sophia was crying, and Carol just wanted to hug her and comfort her, but the gunshots ringing out over the camp insisted another time for it.

"In the truck. C'mon!" Daryl urged, as Jenna's frightened face appeared from the passenger's side of the window. It was then that a cry pierced the air, and Carol knew that cry. Judith.

"Get in. I'll be _right _back!"

"No! Mom!" Sophia cried out, struggling out of Daryl's arms and to her feet. "Come back!" But Carol was already rushing to Rick's tent. The moment she was inside, she found baby Judith screaming and kicking her legs furiously. Her little face was red, and her face was wet with tears. Rick was on the ground, lying on his side, unmoving except for his arms, which reached for Judith in her little bed.

Carol knelt next to Rick on the floor, and she flooded the tent with the glow from her flashlight, seeing the stain of red spreading across his back.

"Oh God," she murmured, sniffling. "You're bit."

"N…no," he gasped, blood spattering from his lips as he struggled to speak. Carol gently put her and on his shoulder, lifting his shirt just enough to see it was a gunshot wound. It was a close shot, she could tell, like somebody had stuck a gun in his back, as if they knew the precise angle to shoot him to make it a slow death, a painful one.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, voice shaking, eyes flooding with tears.

"T…tell Carl to take care of his sister. T…tell him I'm sorry."

"I will. I promise," Carol cried out, as screams echoed through the camp. "Please. Please, get up." She knew he couldn't, but she needed to hear herself tell him. She needed to give him that encouragement, that comfort, because she knew he was dying, and he wasn't going to be able to just get up and go.

"Can't…move. Please." His eyes were wide as he reached for Carol. "Please do it." He motioned toward her gun, and she shook her head, tears spilling forth. Rick coughed again, blood spilling from his lips. Daryl came running into the tent, chest heaving with every breath he took.

"God damn it," Daryl spat, kneeling down next to Rick. "It was Shane?" Rick's eyes locked on Daryl's without giving him an affirmative, but Daryl knew. "God damn it!" Daryl punched the ground hard.

"Take care of them," Rick grunted. "Promise me. Make sure…make sure Carl looks after his sister." Rick closed his eyes, his breathing becoming shallow, and Carol shook her head.

"We gotta go, Carol," Daryl murmured quietly. She nodded, sniffling and taking her gun in her hand again. "Don't."

"He asked me to," she whispered.

"You done enough for one night. Let me take care of it. Don't do this to yourself. Take the baby and run to the truck. Go!" He grabbed her gun, and she took Judith, rushing outside as the gunshot rang out. She froze the moment she saw Shane and Andrea scrambling into a car. Her eyes locked on his, and even in the darkness, she saw the blood dripping from his hands, and all she could think was how this man had murdered his best friend and orphaned two children.

"Come on!" Andrea screamed at Shane, tugging on his arm, snapping him out of his trance. He ducked into the car with her, and they sped off, following another set of headlights somewhere up ahead. Carol felt Daryl's hand on her arm again, and they were practically pulling each other to the truck now, where Beth and Carl had managed to find themselves.

"Get in!" Carol screamed.

"My dad! Did you find my dad?!" Carl yelled.

"You weren't there? You…you didn't see." Carol asked, as she handed Judith to Sophia inside the truck.

"I had to go," he sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I was just gone a few minutes, and…"

"Get in the truck," Carol urged. "Get in the truck, Carl. Beth. Just get in. We have to go." A walker stumbled out of nowhere and grabbed onto Beth's arm, squeezing hard. She screamed in surprise, and Carol reached for her gun, realizing Daryl still had it, and she took her knife out, getting the walker in the head. It loosened its grip on Beth as it fell over, and Beth began to hyperventilate.

"We ain't got all day!" Daryl yelled out, revving the engine. "Get in the god damned truck!" Everybody scrambled, Carol scooting into the cab while Beth and Carl hopped into the back. As they sped away, Carol held a crying Jenna in her lap and rubbed a soothing hand over Sophia's back, wondering if this nightmare would ever end.

It had been impossible to get through the thick horde of walkers, and they'd had to take a different road, leading them off away from everybody else.

"They'd go back to the highway, right?" Carol asked, her eyes searching the road ahead of them frantically. Daryl's hands clenched the steering wheel.

"Didn't see who got out. You?"

"Just Andrea and Shane. There was another car, but…I didn't see."

"Mommy's hurt," Jenna sniffled, lifting her head up from Carol's shoulder. "Daddy had blood all over him. The monsters were there."

"It's ok, sweetheart. I've got you," Carol soothed her. "You just close your eyes."

"Will the monsters go away?"

"As long as I'm here, the monsters won't hurt you, Jenna," Carol promised. "Just close your eyes." Jenna sniffled and put her head back down, and Carol bit her lower lip to keep from crying. "It was chaos," Carol whispered. "Wherever they are, whoever made it out…they could be anywhere." A flash of lightning startled them both, and no sooner had the flash come and gone, a heavy sheet of rain poured down, decreasing their visibility tenfold.

"God damn it," Daryl grunted, slamming his fist on the steering wheel.

"We should stop," Sophia offered, wiping her eyes, glancing into the back of the truck where Carl and Beth were huddling under the tarp. "We have to stop!" Daryl said nothing and turned the moment he caught sight of an overpass, and he came to a halt beneath it, getting them out of the rain and at least giving them a bit of a roof over their heads.

"We aren't stopping here?" Carol asked, her eyes wide as she looked around worriedly.

"Nah. Just waitin'. Maybe they'll come. We gotta wait."

"Daryl they took a different road. They could be miles away."

"We gotta go back!" Beth cried, sliding the small window behind the seat open.

"We go back there, and we're dead!" Daryl hissed out. "They're gone, Beth!" Beth recoiled like she'd been struck, and Daryl took a deep breath. "You daddy and Maggie, they…I didn't see 'em. Maybe they got out. But they ain't back there, and we ain't goin' back neither." Daryl got out of the truck, slamming the door shut and kicking the tire. "Fuck!"

Carol looked down at Jenna, who was shivering in her arms."

"I'll watch her," Sophia offered. "Go on. He needs you." Carol stared at her daughter for a moment, seeing a glimpse of a young woman in her eyes, and she nodded to her, placing the little girl on the seat next to her daughter.

"Stay in the truck," Carol said quickly, getting a nod from her daughter. She slipped out of the truck and went around to the front where Daryl was bent over the hood, hands pressed firmly against it as he tried to steady his breathing. She placed a hand on his back, and his shoulders slumped.

"Where's my Dad?" Carl Grimes came around the truck, his eyes narrow but filled with fear. "He got out. Where'd he go?"

"Carl," Carol murmured softly, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. The boy recoiled.

"Where is he?" he demanded. Carol looked at Daryl, lost for a way to break it to the boy. Daryl sighed heavily and moved away from the truck and looked down at the boy who looked up at him expectantly.

"You dad…he wanted you to know he's sorry. He wanted you to look after your baby sister." He saw the boy back up and shake his head. "I'm sorry, Carl. Your dad…he's dead."

"No!" Carl screamed out, lunging toward Daryl, his hands balled into fists.

"Carl, stop!" Beth urged, as Carl beat his fists into Daryl's chest. Daryl stumbled backward only slightly, letting the boy get his anger out, and Carol moved to wrap her arms around Carl from behind, pulling him back as he cried.

"Liar! He's not dead!"

"It's ok," Carol whispered softly. "It's ok."

"No! He can't be dead! It's not fair." He broke away from Carol's grasp and ran out into the rain.

"Stop!" Carol cried out. Daryl went after the boy and pulled him back under the overpass.

"You ain't doin' this. You ain't runnin'. You get to be mad. You get to cry. But you don't get to run, 'cause your dad wants you to fight. He wants you to live."

"Shut up!" Carl screamed. "He's not dead!"

"He's dead," Daryl said firmly, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I can't show you a body. I can't take you back there. But he's dead." Carl blinked the tears back and sobbed.

"You get to mourn," Carol said softly, "but you have to let us take care of you. You have to let us help." Carl turned away, and Carol looked at Daryl helplessly. He reached out and took her hand.

"Give him a minute," he said softly, leading her around to the back of the truck. Beth was pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

"You ok?" Carol asked gently

"You really think they made it out?" Beth asked gently. "My dad? My sister?"

"I hope so, honey," Carol murmured. "I don't know. What I _do_ know is that if they made it out, they're trying to survive, just like us. So we're going to do the same thing. We'll look for them tomorrow, ok?" Beth sniffled, her eyes red-brimmed and welling with tears. But she nodded, and Carol pulled an arm around her. "We'll be ok. We just have to stick together."

The children stayed on the porch with Beth while Carol and Daryl walked through the old farmhouse, checking for walkers in every room and also looking to see if there were enough provisions for a few days. When they were satisfied that it was safe enough, they headed back out onto the porch.

"We'll hole up here for a few days," Daryl explained. "Me and Carol'll go out tomorrow, look for the rest of the group."

"Can I go?" Beth asked hopefully.

"I need you to stay and help take care'a the kids. We'll work faster on our own." Daryl glanced at Carol and gave her a little nod.

They headed into the house, and Daryl used the deadbolt to make sure the door was secure. Carol and Sophia hurried about, pulling all of the curtains closed, while Carl clutched Judith close, and Beth held Jenna's hand. Carol couldn't help but think, looking at their group, that she and Daryl had somehow become responsible for the lost children. Who knew where Glenn and Sarah were, if they were even alive. Carl and Judith had no one, and Beth was still this scared little thing who wasn't even close to being fully prepared for the world outside.

"We'll keep the baby with us tonight," Carol offered, but Carl shook his head.

"She's my sister. I'll keep her with me." His voice was cold, but when he kissed the top of Sophia's head, he was her protector, he was the only thing she had in the world. Carol gave him a solemn little nod.

"I'm so sorry, Carl," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry. It's the way the world is. We're all gonna die. It's just a matter of when." He turned and walked into the living room, flopping down on the couch with his sister in his arms and holding her close. Carol looked at Daryl, lost for words, and he reached out and took her hand.

"S'gonna be alright. We'll make it through this."

Beth chose the attic. It was fully furnished and decorated with posters of boy bands, which reminded her of her own room on an old farm somewhere, someplace in the distant past. Sophia decided to bunk with her, and little Jenna, terrified, refused to sleep with them, instead, choosing to cling to Carol and not let her out of her sight.

"Sweetheart, you're safe here," Carol assured her, stroking her long, black hair. The girl sniffled and buried her face against Carol's leg, hugging her arms around it. Carol sighed and glanced up at Daryl.

"S'alright. She can stay." He knelt down and gently pried the little girl away from Carol's leg. "You can stay."

"Can…can you check?"

"Check for what, sweetheart?"

"The monsters." She looked up at him, her eyes wide and round with fear, and she wiped a little tear away. Carol picked the girl up and held her close, and she gave Daryl a little nod.

"She won't feel safe unless you check for the monsters." Daryl nodded in understanding and made his way around the room, first opening the closet door to show her there were no monsters in there. He shined a flashlight under the bed to show her that the only thing under there were dust bunnies that seemed to have grown their own dust bunnies. Finally, she was satisfied, and she climbed into the center of the bed and was out within five minutes.

Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, and Carol ran her fingers through her short curls, shaking her head.

"What are we gonna do?" she murmured. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to sit next to him on the bed.

"We'll survive. Just like we have been. It's what we do."

Glenn Rhee sat with his head in his hands on the rail of an old bridge. He was covered in blood—Sarah's—and the last thing he remembered was hearing Jenna's screams and then she was gone, and he couldn't find her.

"I'm so sorry," Maggie sniffled, gently rubbing his back. "I'm so sorry."

"She can't be gone. Six years. We've been married six years. We were just…stupid kids. We were stupid kids when we got married, and we were going to…." He shook his head. "Shit. This isn't real."

"I won't say it'll get easier," Hershel offered, handing the young man a damp cloth he'd soaked in the river to clean up with. "The pain will get easier, but the memory won't. You'll carry it with you." Glenn's eyes darted around in the darkness, and his gaze fixed on the figure of Shane pacing nearby.

"You saw Jenna?"

"I'm sorry, man," Shane said quietly with a shake of his head. "I…I saw enough to know…she's gone." Glenn broke down.

"So much blood," he choked out, as Maggie held his arm as he sunk to his knees on the ground. He threw up, and she continued rubbing his back, letting him know somebody was there. Shane turned to go back around to the car, and Andrea followed quickly.

"Hey," she murmured, gently reaching out and brushing her hand over his arm. "That poor little girl? She died?" He turned, eyes on hers, a spark of something that she didn't quite recognize. "You saw her die?"

"I don't know what the hell I saw," he admitted. "Didn't see her there. Heard her cryin' from somewhere, but I didn't see. Saw Dixon and his whore, but I didn't…I didn't see Jenna."

"You don't know that she's dead?"

"She's dead. She's gone. That's all he needs to know, 'cause we ain't goin' back."

"Shane," Andrea murmured breathlessly, taking a step back.

"Hey, you wanna survive, or not? We go back lookin' for some little girl who's probably dead, we're next." Andrea closed her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to process what he'd just told her. "Best thing we can do is get as far as possible from this place. We keep movin'."

"What about the rest of the group? What about Carl and Judith?"

"They ain't my problem," he said bitterly.

"Rick was your best friend!" Andrea hissed, gripping his arm. "You're saying you don't even care?"

"I loved them kids like they was my own, but they're with Dixon, and he's gonna get 'em killed. I can't risk you. I ain't riskin' the rest of the group. They got each other and a couple kids? We got grown, able-bodied folks. We can survive. I ain't riskin' one of us for a rescue mission."

"This isn't you," Andrea murmured.

"Oh it ain't?" he asked. "Like you know me. A couple good fucks, and you think you know my heart and soul? Sorry sweetheart, but you don't like the way Shane leads, then you can get the hell out. It gets awful cold in them woods at night." Andrea shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured, head dipped low before she looked into his eyes again.

"I'm worried about you."

"I'm worried 'bout _all_ of us. We got out alive, and we ain't goin' back."

"Glenn, stop!" Maggie yelled, as Hershel rushed after the younger man, grabbing him just in time.

"I gotta find her!" Glenn yelled out.

"What the hell?" Shane asked. "What happened?" He rushed over to Maggie, and she shook her head.

"He says he has to go back for Jenna. He has to see for himself." Shane sighed heavily and walked over to Glenn who was struggling against Hershel. He put his hands firmly on Glenn's shoulders and looked him square in the eye.

"She's gone, man. You ain't never gonna see her again."

"She can't be dead. She can't be dead. You gotta say it. You can't say she's gone. You have to say she's dead." Shane looked over his shoulder at the disapproving headshake of Andrea's, before he turned his attention back to Glenn.

"She's dead. It was quick, man. I saw enough to know that. But she's dead. I'm sorry." Glenn shook his head and went to his knees again, a broken man. "You gotta keep pushin' on. Sarah'd want that. Jenna'd want that. We gotta keep movin'."

"We should find the rest of them," Maggie insisted. "We should stick together."

"They're gone," Shane said quietly. "We ain't goin' back. They're either dead or they will be. But we're still here, and we gotta fight for our own lives. We ain't chasin' ghosts."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_Author's Note: This chapter is, for the most part, pure fluff. It's my thank you to you guys for sticking it out through all the drama. Thanks guys._

"Oh God. Right there," she moaned, her hands gripping his strong forearms as he filled her so completely that for one shining moment, his pelvis was flush with hers and they were completely connected.

He panted against her neck as he placed lazy kisses there as he thrust into her quickly, moaning as she dug her heel into his calf and rolled downward, soothing him as he made love to her. His hand slipped between them, his fingers gently dancing over her stomach before he went lower, stroking her clit as he thrust into her. She arched her back against the mattress, biting her cries against his shoulder before she let go, her muscles squeezing around him, a flood of warmth coating him, triggering his own release.

With a sigh, she relaxed, her toes unclenching as he slid out of her, awkwardly rolling the condom off of his dick and tossing it into a waste basket next to their bed. When he turned back to face her, he saw the flush still in her cheeks, her soft, perfect breasts peaked with hard little buds heaving as she fought for her breath.

He took a few deep breaths, his fingers ghosting across her stomach and between her breasts. She covered his hand with her own and curled her fingers around his.

"That was…wow," she murmured, eyes blown wide as she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop spinning so she could focus her energy on moving the rest of her body. "And…three times? What got into you?" Daryl snorted and pulled her into his arms, and she flopped her arm across his chest as he shook with laughter.

"Been gone for three days. Makin' up for lost time, I guess," he pointed out. She chuckled, kissing his neck and rubbing his chest lazily.

"I missed you," she said softly, as he stroked her hair and curled his arm tighter around her.

"Me too," he said softly.

"Did you get through to him? At all?"

"He's pissed off," Daryl said quietly. "I get it."

"Daryl, he's angry, but he doesn't blame you," Carol insisted. "He needs time."

"Kid's damned good with a gun, though. We got the supplies we needed, and he actually saved my ass once. Got saved by a kid."

"He's growing up," Carol said softly. "The second Rick died, Carl started growing up. I'm just afraid that...that he's getting cold."

Two months ago, Rick Grimes had died, and the group had been torn apart, and after much searching for any sign of the others, hope had dwindled down completely, and the group had decided to settle down and find a place with walls for the winter.

They'd found a gated community called Trinity Hills about thirty miles west of Atlanta. There were several houses, and it had taken a lot of ammo, but between Daryl, Carol, Beth and Sophia, they'd managed to take out all of the walkers outside of the gates before getting inside to take out the walkers inside.

From the looks of it, the inhabitants of Trinity Hills had had a good thing going. They had generators that had barely been used, they had hoarded seed packets and other necessities for growing food, and they had even stocked up on ammo and weapons, but at some point, somebody had gotten bit or sick or just up and died, and somehow, the entire population had been wiped out and turned into walkers.

Once the threats had been eliminated, they'd gone about moving themselves into the first house on the corner, a large home with several bedrooms and lots of room to spread out.

Carl had his own room, which he pretty much stayed in most of the time when he wasn't out with Daryl doing supply runs. Beth shared with Sophia, while Jenna and Judith had the room right next to Carol and Daryl's. For the first couple of weeks, Jenna had been too afraid to sleep in her own room and had always ended up between Carol and Daryl, all snuggled in for the night. But now she was doing much better, though she still woke up from bad dreams once and again, and Daryl or Carol would have to go and console her and sit with her until she went back to sleep.

"He didn't talk to me. Not much anyway," Daryl said quietly, letting out a soft sigh.

"Give him time," Carol said gently, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm just glad the two of you got back. Safe." She kissed his neck, and he chuckled when her fingers began to wander down his stomach and over his thigh. But she stopped and sat up suddenly, the sheet falling down into her lap, her breasts bouncing softly as she moved to straddle him. "I wanna go out."

"Out?" he asked. "Like dinner and dancin'?" He chuckled at her when she rolled her eyes.

"I want to go on a run. I'm going stir crazy here. Jude's teething, and there are only so many ways I can read Sleeping Beauty to Jenna. She's getting bored. I'm already bored."

"I'll take you out next time. Beth can watch the kids."

"Thank God. I know Beth wants to get out and help with the supply runs, but I really have _got_ to get out for a while. So, yeah, Beth can watch them. Or we should think about hiring a nanny." He gave her a little squeeze on the behind.

"Oh, funny. You're a funny lady."

"Yeah, I thought so," she giggled, leaning down to kiss him before he grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her back. She squealed when his mouth closed over a nipple, and she could feel him getting hard against her thigh again. "God, you're insatiable." His fingers slipped between her legs, feeling her slick and ready for him again, and he cocked an eyebrow upward.

"Pot and kettle, sweetheart," he chuckled, before dipping low to kiss her again. She gave his shoulder a little nudge before nodding toward the bedside table. He grunted and reached over to pull out the condom box, only to find it empty. "Fuck."

"I'll add it to the list," she said with a cute little pout, before he sighed and rolled off of her. "Don't worry. There _are_ other ways." She crawled over him, kissing her way down his chest and stomach, gripping his erection in her hand. Her eyes flickered with desire as she took him into her mouth, and he sighed contentedly before she did that thing with her tongue he liked so much, and his hips jumped off the mattress.

God, he was glad to be home.

"Did Santa come?!" Jenna bounded down the stairs in the morning, eyes wide, hair wild from sleep, feet scurrying along the floor as she rushed to the breakfast table, where Carol was scooping scrambled eggs onto six different plates. Last week, Daryl had managed to find some chickens still living on a nearby farm, and he'd captured them and brought them home, fixing up a makeshift coop in the garage. Now they had fresh eggs in the morning time.

"What?" Carol asked, a bemused smile on her face. "What makes you say that, honey?"

"It snowed!" Carol moved to open the curtains and peek out the window. Sure enough, at least two inches of fluffy white snow was spread out like a pristine, white blanket all over the ground. Carol watched as the little girl scurried up to stand on one of the kitchen chairs and peer out the window. She quickly pulled the girl into her arms and put her down on the floor.

"Hey, be careful," she warned.

"Where's the Christmas tree?"

"Honey," Carol started gently, kneeling down next to her, "it's not quite Christmas. From what I figure, we might still have another month or so until that."

"Oh," Jenna said softly with a little nod. "I remember Santa came when it snowed last year."

"He did, hmm?"

"Yeah," Jenna said matter-of-factly. He bought me a puppy. I asked for a baby brother, but I got a puppy. The monsters got him." She looked down sadly. Carol pulled her into a gentle hug. "I sure hope Santa brings mommy and daddy back for me this year."

"Oh, sweetheart," Carol murmured, tucking a strand of the girl's hair behind her ear. The idea of breaking this child's Christmas spirit after everything she'd been through was just too much. She gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Come on. Come eat. Your eggs are getting cold." Jenna nodded, and Carol checked the expiration date on a bottle of ketchup before passing it to her. She smiled when the girl beamed with happiness before squirting the sticky red condiment over the fluffy yellow eggs.

Daryl came in next, pulling his arms around Carol and hugging her from behind. Jenna giggled when Carol yelped with surprise.

"Mornin'," he murmured, kissing the back of her neck. She sighed softly and turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly.

"Morning," she murmured. She ran her fingertips down his jaw, smiling as he looked at her the way he always looked at her in the morning. Her fingers scraped over his stubble, and she leaned in to kiss him again.

"What's that for?"

"Just because," she murmured. _I love you, _her heart murmured, but the moment passed, and she just cocked her head to the side. He leaned in low to whisper against her ear.

"Was hopin' you'd wait on me to take a shower this mornin'."

"Sorry," she said with a little pout, kissing him again. "I was starving, so I got up."

"Shoulda woke me."

"You looked so cute in your sleep."

"Stop," he snorted. She winked at him.

"Don't forget to pick up a box of, well, you know," Carol murmured, raising her eyebrows. "Because if you forget, I'll be very, _very_ disappointed."

"Guess I'd just have to make it up to ya, huh?"

"You could try," she laughed, as he gave her bottom a little pat and released her. Carol tugged on his hand when he started for the table, and she nodded for him to follow her into the living room.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

"It's Jenna," she said softly. "She's…well, she's thinking about Christmas."

"Alright," he said slowly. "What about it?"

"We need to give her a Christmas, Daryl." She saw his brow furrow in confusion.

"She said she wants Santa to bring her parents back to her. I don't know what to tell her. I really don't. She's just a baby, Daryl." They looked into the kitchen where Sophia had now joined Jenna and was yawning as she poured a cup of water for herself.

They had gone back to the campsite about a week after the attack. Nothing but tents shredded by wild animals scavenging for food was left. Glenn and Sarah's tent had so much blood inside that it was impossible to say if it was from one or both of them, but the possibility of them being alive was grim. Still, Jenna was so young, and she only had a short time left to be an innocent child before the demands of the harsh new world would force her to grow up way too fast.

Daryl gave her a little nod, and he kissed her cheek.

"We'll figure somethin' out. C'mon. Let's get somethin' to eat 'fore it's all gone." He took her hand in his, and together, they walked back to join their little family for breakfast.

Carol warmed her hands by the heat exhaust on the dashboard as Daryl navigated his way down the road as best he could, hoping he wouldn't accidentally drive off the road. Without the luxury of plows and salt trucks, it was pretty damned hard to navigate after a snowfall.

"Judith needs more formula. Carl thinks he needs shaving cream." Carol giggled as Daryl rolled his eyes as he spoke. "He ain't got nothin' but peach fuzz on his face."

"I want to pick up some clothes for Jenna. She needs some warmer shirts and shoes. Oh. Tampons."

"What?" Daryl choked out.

"Not for Jenna," Carol said with an eye roll.

"Oh. Okay. You…get those then."

"Men," Carol muttered, making a face. "You get the condoms, I'll get the tampons. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ok, and, oh! Chocolate." Daryl eyed her. "Goes with the tampons."

"Right," Daryl said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Carol slid across the seat and snuggled up against Daryl, and he pulled an arm around her as he maneuvered the truck down the slick, snowy road. She kissed his cheek, and he kissed the top of her head when she rested her cheek against his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, things were good.

Carol rifled through the bag of loot from the pharmacy, taking mental stock of the boxes of tampons and the sanitary pads. She rifled through boxes of bandages and gauze and found the stash of condoms at the bottom of the bag. Six boxes of ten.

"Huh," Carol snickered, her gaze flicking over the package.

"What?"

"Glow in the dark? Ribbed for her pleasure. Branching out, are we Mr. Dixon?" The tips of Daryl's ears turned bright red, and Carol leaned across to kiss his cheek. "Trust me. I'm not complaining."

"S'all they had. Just got everything."

"Are you planning a weekend of nothing but sex? Sixty times?" she asked. "Don't get me wrong. I approve, but we're both bound to get a little tired. And sore."

"Stop," he muttered.

"Oh, I picked up something, too." She winked at him, slipping the box out from under the tampons.

"The hell's that?" he asked, giving the box a brief glance before focusing on the road. "Lube? Trust me, sweetheart, we ain't got no problem in that department." Carol's cheeks reddened, and she bit her lower lip.

"It's…warming liquid," she pointed out. "I was curious." He raised an eyebrow at her, his smile widening by the second.

"Warming liquid?" he asked. "You mean…"

"It's supposed to…I don't know…make things more intense."

"You sayin' they ain't already?"

"No!" she insisted. "I just thought it might be fun." With a smirk, Daryl abruptly pulled the truck into the drive of a small house along the road. Carol's mouth dropped open, and she watched as Daryl jumped out of the truck and rushed up the porch and through the door.

"Daryl Dixon, what are you doing?" she muttered to herself. Hopping out of the truck, she started up to the house, when Daryl came back out.

"It's safe!" he called.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"We're makin' good time. Kids don't expect us home 'til after dark." The words began to sink in, and a smile spread over Carol's face. "Grab that bag. We're gonna need it." Carol's cheeks flushed red, and she quickly grabbed the bag and followed Daryl inside, eager for a little privacy with absolutely no chance of interruption.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The ride home was silent, but no words needed to be spoken. Carol couldn't keep the grin off of her face, and Daryl couldn't keep his free hand off of her thigh. As they drove away from the little house they'd made their own for a couple of hours, he gently squeezed her thigh and felt her place her hand over his, rubbing his knuckles softly.

Carol gently strummed her fingers over the back of his hand, and she rested her head against the headrest, peering over the snowy road, yawning and fixing her gaze on the tire tracks they'd made on the way home. One good thing about being the only car on the road was that it was mighty easy to follow your own tracks home.

They were halfway home when Carol shot up in her seat, gripping the dash.

"S'wrong?" Daryl asked, hitting the brakes. The truck skidded briefly, tires sliding over ice, and Carol pointed toward the side of the road, where a few feet away, a walker was devouring the carcass of a dead dog. A few feet away, a puppy that appeared to be a German Shepherd, was bounding through the snow toward the walker.

"Poor little thing," Carol murmured. She bit her lip and reached for the door handle.

"What're you doin'?" he asked. But she was already aiming her gun and shooting the walker in the head. The puppy whimpered and jumped before freezing in place, and Carol scooped the little fur ball up and tucked it inside of her coat. She came back to the truck with a hopeful grin on her face, gently stroking the puppy's ears.

She closed the truck door, and the puppy nuzzled her chin before giving her a ticklish lick on the jaw.

"Got a thing for dogs, do ya?" Daryl asked, leaning against the steering wheel and watching her with an samused smile on his lips.

"Oh, Daryl, she's an orphan. She needs someone."

"She?"

"I think she's a she." Carol held the puppy up a little, turning its rear up. "Yep. She's a she." She tucked her back in her coat. "Come on. She's…"

"Another lost one," Daryl said quietly. Carol nodded somberly.

"Puppies are needy and they yap a lot."

"Well, some people are needy, and some people are loud and talk a lot. We have walls, Daryl. It'll be ok. Besides, she'll grow up to be a great watch dog." She kissed the puppy's nose. "Won't you?" Daryl chuckled and put the car back into drive, heading off toward home.

"Looks like we got ourselves a dog."

Sophia helped Jenna make up a bed for the puppy, and Jenna insisted that the puppy sleep in her room, which Carol was absolutely ok with. If it insured that Jenna would continue sleeping in her room, maybe it meant the nightmares would begin to fade away as well.

"What are we gonna do with a dog?" Beth asked, exasperated as she cut up leftover squirrel meat from lunch to give to the puppy.

"You grew up on a farm. You don't like dogs?" Carol asked, helping her slice the pieces into smaller, more manageable ones for the puppy to chew.

"I love dogs. I just…I guess I didn't think I'd ever see one again that wasn't, you know, sick or dead or something like that." Beth shrugged and wiped her hands on a towel. "You know, Jenna really misses her mom and dad."

"I know," Carol said with a deep frown, scraping the scraps into a little bowl. "I wish there was something I could do."

"She asked me something, and she told me not to tell you, but I thought you should know."

"What's that?" Carol asked softly, turning to give Beth her full attention.

"She asked if you and Daryl were her new mom and dad. She…she said she wants a mom and a dad, and she thinks that you guys are it."

"Oh," Carol said softly, raising her eyebrows. "Poor thing."

"Carol?"

"Hmm?"

"I miss my dad. I miss my sister." She smiled a little, blinking back tears. "I know my mom's gone. I know that. But the not knowing? Not knowing what happened to Maggie and my dad, it's just…I don't sleep much. At night. I write. I write music, and I think, and I feel bad, because I had all those years with them. Jenna's so young. A few years go by, and she might not even remember her mom and dad." Carol gently squeezed Beth's arm.

"Hey. The world we live in calls for survival. That's what we're doing. It's what Glenn would want for Jenna. It's what your dad would want for you. It's ok to think about them, but you can't let it take over. You can't let it stop you from moving on." Beth gave Carol an understanding nod.

"Come see!" Jenna squealed, hurrying into the room. Carol and Beth followed the little girl into the living room, where Daryl was standing in the center of the rug. The little puppy was standing on her hind legs with her front paws on Daryl's leg, looking up at him expectantly. Carol giggled at the sight.

"Somebody likes Daryl," she teased.

"Ain't a dog person."

"Don't tell me you're a cat person."

"Ain't one of them either," he grumbled.

"Looks like you are now," Sophia teased. She scooped up the puppy and scratched it behind the ears. "We should name her."

"How about Rover?" Carl snickered.

"No, she needs a girl's name. How about Sugar?"

"Sugar?" Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! See, she likes it." Sophia pulled something out of her pocket, and held her hand out. It was a sugar cube from the box in the cupboard in the kitchen. The kids had been eating them as sweets. The puppy licked at it, and Carol laughed.

"She does! Sugar. I like it." She gave Daryl a little pat on the behind as they stood watching as the kids crowded around playing with the puppy and calling her by her name.

"I gotta call her Sugar?"

"It's her name, Daryl," Carol teased with a grin. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Sugar," he muttered. "Had to be Sugar."

Baby Judith and little Jenna were both napping when the gunfire began outside the gates. Carol and Daryl had been watching Beth, Sophia and Carl engage in a rather hardcore snowball fight, and poor Carl hadn't stood a chance against the girls. Carol had even tossed a couple snowballs Daryl's direction, but everything stopped when the gunfire started.

"Fuck," Daryl hissed under his breath. "Grab the guns. Let's keep it quiet. Ain't nobody gotta know we're here." Everybody filed inside and grabbed the guns out of the hall closet before heading out of the house and rushing up to the gates.

Daryl was the first there, peeking through a small slat to see walkers falling over one another as gunshots rang out. Carol climbed up, and Daryl reached to pull her down, but she was quick, pulling herself up the concrete siding and perching just below the top of the wall, peering over to get a good look.

She saw quite a few people with guns and supply packs, but it was the woman in the center with the long samurai sword that made her freeze. She knew that woman. She knew that cloak she wore on her back.

"Open the gate," Carol called down.

"What?" Daryl asked, looking up, uncertain if he'd heard her correctly.

"Daryl, it's Michonne. The woman from the woods!" Daryl's eyes flickered with recognition, and he reached up for her, helping her down.

"You sure?"

"Yes! Let them in. Please. She helped us. The least we can do is help her, too." Daryl nodded, and he and Carol went to work opening the heavy gates they'd reinforced with large beams. As they opened, the walkers began to try and force themselves in, and Carol and Daryl were the first to start popping off rounds, leaving a pile of walker corpses as some sort of red carpet welcome.

"Get inside!" Carol called, waving her arm as the weary survivors began to stumble over the bodies to get in the doors. Michonne took up the rear and ran in last, making certain the rest of her group made it in safely. As the doors slammed shut, closing out the rest of the world, everyone turned to look at one another. Michonne's eyes fixed on Carol, and recognition flooded her face.

"You."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Daryl turned on the generator to get some heat going in the house, as the members of Michonne's group sat drinking hot coffee courtesy of Carol. There were a handful of them. There was a very tall, very quiet black man named Tyreese who kept a protective eye over his younger sister Sasha, who was several months pregnant. From the story they'd told, Sasha's husband Bob had been killed weeks ago when a herd had happened upon their campsite. Michonne had been the one to find the group struggling to survive after losing several of their group members.

Other than Tyreese and Sasha, there was a young man named Noah, who appeared to be all of eighteen or nineteen, and he held firmly onto a sleeping child, bundled snugly up in blankets. Michonne kept a close eye on Noah, making certain to stay close, keeping watch over him and the child.

"You've been out there? All this time?" Carol asked, handing Michonne the last cup of coffee. Michonne took a long sip and nodded her head.

"We've been staying in barns and houses when we can. Last night, a wolf got into the barn we were in."

"We lost Abe. And Eugene," Tyreese said quietly.

"I'm so sorry," Carol said gently. "You've been through so much." She looked to Sasha, who winced in pain. "Are you ok?"

"Baby's moving a lot. I'm all bruised up."

"She fell," Tyreese pointed out. Carol frowned in concern.

"The baby's moving. That's a good thing," Carol said with a nod. "You should rest. We have plenty of houses, and we'd be happy to help you clear out a couple of yourselves. This little group? This is all we have, but we have each other." Sasha rubbed her stomach, wincing again. Carol knelt down next to her.

"May I?" Sasha nodded, moving her hands away from her belly, letting Carol gently touch her stomach.

"You a doctor?" Tyreese asked. Carol chuckled at that.

"Me? No. I'm a mom. The baby's really moving. That's good." She looked up at Daryl. "She can rest here for a few hours while we clear out one of the houses." Carol smiled and looked back at Sasha. "You can have your pick."

"I'll stay wherever Ty stays." She reached for her brother's hand and gave it a little squeeze. He nodded toward Carol.

"Thank you. For having us." Carol gave him a little smile and a nod, and Daryl stood, shifting his crossbow onto his shoulder.

"C'mon. I'll show you one of the houses." Tyreese nodded and followed Daryl away. At that point, the young child in Noah's arms began to squirm, and Noah unbundled him, letting him stand on the floor. He blinked and rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking around at his new surroundings.

"Mama?" he asked, before spotting Michonne sitting close by. A smile spread over his face, and Michonne smiled back, holding her arms out. The little boy, not much older than two, rushed over, and she picked him up.

"He's yours?" Carol asked with a little smile.

"He's my Andre," Michonne said with a nod. "He clings to Noah. I think it's 'cause he misses his daddy." She kissed Andre's forehead.

"He's beautiful," Carol murmured. She nodded toward the kitchen. "Come on. I'm pretty sure we have some cookies in here. Does he like cookies?"

"Oh yeah," Michonne said with a little chuckle. "We used to call him our cookie monster." She shifted Andre onto one hip and followed Carol into the kitchen. Michonne was surprised to find a high chair at the table, and she glanced at Carol. "You guys have pretty much everything here, huh?"

"The homes were furnished when we got here. We got out once, twice a week to get more supplies. We were lucky." Carol sighed softly and opened up the cookie jar before pulling out one cookie and handing it to Michonne's son.

"Your daughter. Sophia, right?"

"Yeah," Carol said with a nod.

"Was that her?" Michonne asked. "I saw she was wearing the bracelet." Carol made a little humming noise and nodded her head. "You're lucky you found her." Carol looked up to see the distant look in Michonne's eyes as she put the boy down in the high chair to enjoy his snack.

"You will stay, won't you?" Carol asked softly. "It's safe here. It's been…good."

"I'm ok on the road," she admitted. "But I have to take care of my son first. I want him to be safe. If anything were to happen to me, I want to know that he's safe from those…things. I've lost enough to them. They can't have him, too."

"God damn, it's fuckin' cold," Shane muttered as he pulled the door closed of the old convenience store they'd been holed up in for the last two months. He tripped over one of the sleeping bags and kicked it across the store in frustration. "Where is she?" He looked over at the spot on the floor they'd lined with sleeping bags for Andrea as she waited out her illness. She was gone. Glenn, Maggie and Hershel stood with somber faces as they watched Shane stalk across the store toward them.

"She's dead," Hershel said grimly. "Died 'bout a half-hour ago." Shane's face was emotionless.

"You put her down?"

"I did," Maggie said quietly, her eyes brimmed with tears, her jaw set tightly as she glared at him.

"Thank you," Shane said with a nod. "It's what she'd want."

"We've had a talk," Hershel said quietly, his voice even, grandfatherly and gentle. "We're going to need you to leave."

"The hell you just say to me, old man?" Shane asked, balling one hand into a fist while the other rested on his hip above his gun.

"Andrea had a lot to say before she died," Glenn said stiffly. "She told us what you did to Rick."

"What?" Shane balked.

"Said you just couldn't handle carrying what you did all alone. How you told her you brought down the perimeters while she was distracting Daryl that night. How you waited until the walkers started to swarm, how you waited for Carl to leave Rick's tent so you could murder him."

"You watch your goddamn mouth," Shane shouted, coming for Glenn. Maggie pulled a gun from the back of her pants, holding it evenly aimed at Shane's chest.

"Oh, I'm far from done," Glenn spat. "You let the walkers in that _killed_ my wife. You waited for the gunshots to start before you put a bullet in your best friend's back. You killed them. _You_ did that."

"We were gonna die!" Shane yelled. "Daryl came along and had Rick's ear, and Rick's focus was split. How the hell could he lead when he had somebody else tellin' him what we were supposed to do?"

"You told him Jenna was dead," Hershel spoke up.

"What?"

"You told him Jenna was dead, and Andrea told us you didn't know. She told us that you didn't want to go back to look for her." Shane's gaze went from Hershel's to Glenn's.

"You left my daughter to die, you piece of shit," Glenn seethed, pulling a knife from his pocket, flicking it open and lunging at Shane, pressing him against the steel door frame. Shane tried to fight back, but Glenn pressed the blade of the knife against his neck. "You look me in the eye and tell me my daughter was dead. You tell me she was dead and you didn't leave her there to be ripped apart by those things." Shane gasped and held his hands up.

"I got you out. I got all'a you out, and you're gonna fuckin' question me?"

"She was four!" Glenn spat, shaking with anger, the knife digging in enough that a little trickle of blood flowed down Shane's neck. "You looked me in the eye that night, and you told me she was dead. She was _four_! She was just a baby, and you left her behind!"

"I had to get us out, or we were _all_ gonna die!" Glenn tightened the knife against Shane's neck.

"You think for one second I wouldn't die to get my daughter back if I had even one shred of hope she might be alive?" Tears ran down his cheeks as he stared into the eyes of the man responsible for his family's destruction. "I wanted to stay! I wanted to look for her, but you were telling me she was gone, and everything was a mess! I wanted to go back. I wanted to look for her, but _you_ told me she was dead. You fucking _liar!_" Glenn released the pressure on Shane's neck and stepped back from him, wiping the droplets of blood off of his knife, as Shane's hand moved to cover the cut. "Get out."

"I got you this far."

"I said get the fuck out!"

"I got you this fuckin' far!"

"Yeah, you got us this far. You can go the rest of the way by yourself. I'm going back."

"What? You think you're gonna find your girl? It's been months! She's not there! She's dead!"

"Fuck you!" Glenn seethed. "You killed your best friend. You may as well have killed my wife. You did that. You. Now get the fuck out, or I'll put this knife through your heart. You ever come near me again, and I _will_ kill you." Shane's gaze washed over Hershel and Maggie, who looked at him with no sympathy.

"You're making a mistake."

"Yeah, well, if I am, it's mine to make, and I won't have you here."

"_We _won't have you here," Maggie spoke up, stepping forward, linking her fingers with Glenn's, gun still pointed at Shane's chest. "Go." Shane shook his head.

"Dumbest fuckin' people I ever met in my whole goddamned life. Ya'll deserve whatever you get." He zipped his coat up and grabbed his pack and headed to the door. "Ain't gonna find nothin'. Even if she wasn't dead that night, she's sure as hell dead now. Dead and gone, and that's just what you're gonna be, asshole." He opened the door with a bang and headed out into the snow. Hershel moved to shut the door in Shane's wake, securing it to keep out the walkers that were sure to have been attracted by all the noise.

"C'mon," Maggie urged, tugging at Glenn's hand. "Let's pack up." Glenn wiped at his eyes, his hand shaking as he did so. "Hey. Hey. It's gonna be ok. We'll go back. We're going back. Ok?" Glenn simply nodded, and Maggie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. When she pulled back, she brushed her lips over his, and he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. "It'll be ok. It's gonna be ok."

Carol shivered as she checked on Judith and Jenna that night. They were sound asleep, and so was Sophia when she went to check on her. Beth was sitting up in bed writing in her diary, and she gave Carol a smile and a nod before turning back to her writing.

As Carol shut the door, she felt his strong arms pull around her middle. She bit her lip as he nuzzled the back of her neck, pressing soft kisses there.

"Hey," she said softly, turning in his arms and giving him a tender kiss. "Tyreese and Sasha got settled?"

"Yeah. Noah's stayin' with 'em too. Michonne and her boy are settled across the street."

"Good," Carol said with a smile. "We have more people. I like them."

"I'm gonna take Tyreese out 'fore dawn tomorrow, get a supply run in. Show him the way to town so he knows if I ain't with him next time."

"Oh," Carol said gently, brushing her fingertips over his jaw, her eyes filled with suggestion. "I was hoping we could sleep in tomorrow."

"Fuck it. He can go by himself. Ain't that hard to get to town." He scooped her up in his arms, and she stifled a giggle against his neck.

Daryl carried her into their bedroom and promptly shut the door with his foot. He carried her over to the bed and deposited her in the middle, crawling over her to kiss her hungrily.

"Daryl Dixon!" she laughed, as his fingers trailed down her sides.

"Wha?" he mumbled against her mouth. She gently pushed back on his chest.

"You should go," she murmured. "Show him the ropes." Daryl grinned down at her. "I'll be here when you get back."

"Ain't leavin' yet. Few more hours."

"We should sleep," she giggled. "You need your rest."

"I'll be quick."

"How romantic."

"Woman, we gonna do this or not?" he chuckled, kissing her neck. She laughed, tugging at his shirt, helping him pull it off of himself.

"God, I love you," she laughed, as his lips brushed over her collarbone. And they both froze. "Oh…shit." Daryl snorted against her collarbone, and she covered her eyes with her hand. "Oh, God. That…I didn't mean for it to…to just come out like that." He raised his head and looked into her eyes, a grin spreading over his face. "I…I meant it though."

"I know," he murmured, stroking her cheek as her fingers threaded through his hair.

"You do?" she asked softly.

"Yeah." His grin widened as she bit her lip, and he leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled back, he saw the redness in her cheeks subsiding. "You know I love you, too, right?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I know. It's good…it's good to…to _hear_ it, but I knew." He kissed her again.

"Good," he said gently. "Ain't never loved nobody like this before."

"Me neither," she admitted. "It's good. We're good. Great, even."

"Great, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," she giggled, gently running her hand down his back. "We're great." Her heart thundered in her chest, and even though he'd said it too, she couldn't help that her nerves were all firing at once, and her stomach was a jumble of coiling emotions. She was trembling, and as he kissed her neck, he could feel her pulse pounding.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm good." Her smile matched his, and she pulled her arms around her shoulders and relaxed as he began to ease her nerves and remind her just how great they really were together.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"Damn it," Michonne groaned, slamming her hand against the steel pole near a cash register inside a large department store. "We're surrounded."

"It's ok," Carol assured her. "Daryl's pulling the truck up at one of the loading docks. We just have to get back there and open the bay door.

"Easier said than done," Michonne grunted, unsheathing her samurai sword as three walkers ambled toward them.

"The doors are closed. We take these guys out, and we've got the run of the place." She pulled the rifle around from her back and checked to make sure she had ample ammo. When she was satisfied, she fired off a shot into the first walker, as Michonne took out two with one slice of her sword. "See? Piece of cake." Michonne smirked at that.

"Three down, thirty to go," Michonne murmured, whipping the sword back to keep another walker at bay, jerking upward to split it straight up the middle. The thing about these walkers? The longer they walked around decomposing, the softer and squishier they were. It made for easy albeit messy kills.

They moved from the front of the store straight to the back with ease, picking off each walker that came across their path. There were plenty still roaming the store, but they'd be dealt with later. They would pick them all off, one by one, and then they'd make sure the store was sealed up nice and tight so they might come back later for more supplies.

"This place is a gold mine," Michonne chuckled, her hand brushing over some sweaters as they walked past the women's clothing.

"Tell me about it."

"Oh, look. Get this for Daryl." She pointed at a frilly negligee, and Carol snorted.

"Yeah, right."

"Hey, why not? Spice things up a little."

"Things are plenty spicy enough, thank you," Carol said with a laugh as they pushed through two swinging doors and into the back room of the store. Giant flat-screen TV's sat in boxes under thick layers of dust. Carol shook her head, clucking her tongue. All of that money people poured into those pieces of equipment, and they were utterly useless now.

The houses in Trinity Hills had televisions, but there really was no practical use for them, and the generators' power couldn't be spared for video games and movies.

The clink of the back of the truck connecting with the doors of the loading dock echoed through the dark, loud room. A snarl from nearby startled them both, and Michonne shined her flashlight in the direction of the sound just in time for Carol to aim and fire, dropping the walker in half a second.

"Nice shot," Michonne said with a smile. It had been about a month since Michonne's group had arrived at Trinity Hills, and everyone was pretty comfortable with each other at this point. Carol had found the beginnings of a true friendship forming with Michonne, and she enjoyed their outings together.

Another bang from the loading doors got their attention, and they quickly moved to pull it open. Daryl was hopping down from the top of the truck, having had to climb out and up the truck to avoid the herd of walkers outside.

"Shit," Daryl grunted, squeezing between the cement wall and the back of the truck before landing on his feet. He opened up the back of the moving truck they'd found a couple of weeks ago, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Let me guess," Michonne snorted, "piece of cake?" Daryl shot her a look.

"Come on," Carol chuckled. "We've got a lot of work to do." The three of them made a wide circle around the store, sticking together and picking off the walkers one-by-one. It took a good forty-five minutes, but when they were confident the place was clear, they headed up to the front of the store to grab some carts.

"My three favorite words," Carol said with a little hum. "Let's go shopping."

Carol took the infant aisle, grabbing all of the non-expired formula that she could find. She loaded up the cart with boxes of diapers, baby wipes, bottles, cans of formula, clothes and even a few toys. If a baby had to grow up in such a dark world, the least it could have was some toys.

Carol found a cute stuffed giraffe that she tucked away for baby Judith, as well as some teething biscuits that hadn't quite met their expiration yet.

She took two cartloads to the truck before moving on to grab clothes for Andre and Jenna. Michonne stuck to the food aisles, grabbing canned meats and spaghetti o's—a special request from Sophia—as well as pasta sauces and boxes of spaghetti. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had pasta, but the thought of it was enough to make her stomach rumble.

Daryl was in charge of grabbing toiletries. Toilet tissue, soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, deodorant, tampons, and more condoms. Noah had made his own list and gave it to Daryl, and condoms had been at the top of it. The young man had ducked his head when Daryl eyed him, when Beth had peeked over at them and blushed furiously, Daryl had grunted and shook his head, not wanting to hear any explanations.

"Probably don't even know what the hell they're doin'," he muttered, tossing the boxes in his cart. "Waste of a box, you ask me." He eyed a box of that special warming liquid that he and Carol had discovered they liked so much, and after glancing over his shoulder to see if anybody was close by, he stuffed a tube of it in his pants pocket and moved on to the first-aid aisle and then on to the pet section for Sugar's food.

Michonne was just bringing her second cart load to the back when she heard a crash, followed by a yelp of pain from Carol.

"You ok?!" she asked, rushing to Carol's aid. Carol grunted and stood, brushing her hands on her pant legs.

"Yeah. Can you help me with this box?"

"What is it?"

"It's a crib."

"A crib?"

"For Sasha's baby."

"What about the one at her place?"

"It's at least twenty-years-old, Michonne. She needs a new one. Help." Michonne sighed and helped Carol pick the box up and put it in the cart. "We might be living after the apocalypse, but it's still ok to spoil babies, you know." Michonne smiled at that and shook her head as she and Carol headed to the back to load their finds into the truck.

They loved the truck. It made necessary supply runs a less frequent occurrence. They only had to go out once a month instead of once a week. Still, Daryl went out every few days for fresh meat, which always made Carol worry, especially when he was late getting home.

Daryl came back with his last load of stuff just as they were putting the crib box in the truck.

"Think we got everything," he muttered, tossing the items into the back of the truck.. Michonne raised an eyebrow when she noticed the multiple boxes of condoms, and when she saw a flush rise in Carol's cheeks in the dim light of the flashlight, she snickered but said nothing. Daryl slammed door shut, locking it in place so they wouldn't lose anything on the way home.

"Not everything," Carol pointed out. "We need a Christmas tree."

"Christmas tree?" Daryl and Michonne asked in unison.

"Yes, a Christmas tree. Jenna's still expecting Santa."

"We don't even know what day it is. How we gonna have Christmas?"

"It doesn't have to be Christmas day. We just need to celebrate. She needs this, Daryl. She's lost so much."

"We gonna do gifts, too?"

"We can," Carol said with a shrug. "But we don't have to. What's important is that she knows she has us. We're here, even if her parents are gone." The way Carol's hand moved to her chest, above her heart, told Daryl this was something very important to her.

"I'll grab a saw when we get home. Kid's gonna have a Christmas, she's gettin' a real tree, not one of them shitty fake ones."

"Thank you, Daryl," Carol murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.

"God, you two aren't past the honeymoon stage yet?" Michonne asked with an eyeroll and an amused smile. "Oh, sorry, gotta have a honeymoon first. Or a wedding, I guess." She saw the color drain from Daryl's face, and she cleared her throat. "I'm just…gonna take my chances with the walkers out there. I'll be in the truck." She climbed up back of the truck and disappeared, leaving Carol and Daryl alone in an awkward silence.

"That was…" Carol's eyes met his, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Look, I'm not even going to give it a thought, ok? I know you love me, and you know I love you, and honestly, I don't need anything more than that. Formalities really aren't necessary these days." She kissed him quickly before unwrapping herself from around him and starting toward the back of the truck. He reached out, catching her elbow with his finger tips. She turned around, blushing furiously as he cast the light on her face. She squinted and held her hand up. "Daryl, stop."

"I do love you," he said softly. "The others know about us. Ain't no secret."

"Right," Carol said with a nod. "And it's fine the way it is. We don't owe each other anything. It's just…it is what it is. It's good. I'm happy. Are you?"

"'Course I am," he said with a nod. "I got you. We got Sophia. And Judith and Jenna. We got a family." Carol gave him a smile and a little nod. "'Course Jenna did ask if we're gonna get married, 'cause moms and dad are s'posed to be married." Carol sighed softly.

"I've been married. It…well, it wasn't for me. Back then? I got married thinking I was with my soul mate. Turned out, my marriage was just a piece of paper that gave my husband the idea he had the right to be an asshole. Best thing I ever did was get a divorce." She caught herself. "I'm not saying that's how it would be. It's just…things are different. I love you. I love what we have. I know there wouldn't be any pieces of paper. But if I made vows again, it would be forever. You know what I mean?" Daryl gave her a little nod.

"Never been married," he said with a shrug. "But I never found nobody I wanted to be married to. 'Til you." Carol felt her eyes welling with tears. "We don't gotta. Just sayin'…I'd marry you. Someday. If you wanted. That's all." Carol bit her lip, blinking back the tears, and she gently placed her hand against his cheek.

"You…this…you're what I need," she insisted. Daryl tugged at her hips, pulling her close, and he let out a little sigh. She smiled a little, stroking his cheek. "Let's just go with it, hmm?"

"Look, I hate to bust up this awkwardness. It's my fault. I admit it. But we've got a second herd coming for a family reunion," Michonne hollered from the front of the truck. "Let's get going!" Carol sighed heavily, and she reached out, giving Daryl's hand a squeeze.

"S'alright. We'll talk later," Daryl promised. Carol smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips before he nodded for her to go first. "Tell Michonne to pull forward a little so I can shut this door." Carol gave him a nod before pulling herself up the back of the truck. He could hear her footsteps against the steel top, and moments later, Michonne inched the truck up just enough for Daryl to pull himself out and shut the door. A walker's hand scuffed at his boot, and he raised his knee before bringing his heel down on the side of its head, sloughing off half the head as the brain spilled from the skull. He grimaced and reached out, hanging onto the truck.

"Go on!" he hollered out, slapping the side of the truck. Michonne gave him a little nod in the mirror before stepping on the gas, hurrying down the lot toward the road. When they were clear from the herd, she stopped, and Daryl climbed off, coming around to hop into the cab.

"Acrobat," Michonne said, pushing the truck into drive, speeding off down the highway.

"What?" Daryl panted, scooting in close to Carol.

"You were an acrobat before the turn," Michonne guessed. Daryl snorted.

"Nah."

"Too bad," Michonne said, winking at Carol. "Imagine. Daryl Dixon in a spandex jumpsuit."

"I could get on board with that," Carol teased, curling her fingers around his.

"Stop," he muttered, ears turning red. Carol bit her lip and chuckled, settling in for the ride home.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Carol hummed softly as she rocked Judith back to sleep in her arms. She sighed softly, stroking the baby's soft, chubby cheeks.

"Carol?" Jenna asked sleepily from her bed.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Can Sugar sleep in my bed tonight?" The puppy, twice the size as she was when they found her, yipped and sniffed the floor.

"Sweetie, Sugar's a dog. No dogs in the bed."

"Please? She makes the monsters go away in my dreams." Jenna's lower lip quivered, and Carol sighed. How could she say no to that?

"Alright, but this is the last time."

"Okay," Jenna said with a little nod and a sniffle. She scooped the puppy up and pulled her into bed with her. "Is Santa coming tonight? Will he bring my mommy and daddy?" Carol frowned and put Judith down in her crib before moving back to sit on the edge of Jenna's bed.

"Honey, I don't want you to be disappointed if he doesn't bring your mommy and daddy."

"I miss them." She rubbed her tear-filled eyes. "Mommy always tucked me in tight and made sure the monsters couldn't pull me out of bed." Carol smiled sadly, tucking Jenna securely into bed. "Carol?"

"Hmm?"

"If Santa doesn't bring my mommy and daddy back, can you be my mommy and Daryl be my daddy?" Carol felt a tug at her heartstrings, and she bit back a little whimper. "And you can be Judy's mommy too! We can be a family."

"Honey, we_ are_ a family. I love you and Judy just like I love my Sophia. You girls are so special to me." Carol leaned down and kissed Jenna's forehead. "I'll keep the monsters away, ok?"

"Ok," Jenna said softly before yawning and curling up with the puppy. "Good night."

"Good night, honey." Carol sighed softly and made her way out of the room, keeping the door open so Jenna would feel safer. She made her way to Beth and Sophia's room and knocked.

"Come in." Carol stepped in to see Sophia reading a book in bed. Beth's bed was made and empty.

"Where's Beth?"

"With Noah," Sophia said quietly. "I think they're…"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Carol said quietly, holding her hand up. Sophia giggled. "Need something, Mom?"

"No. I just wanted to see you. Check on you. You ok?"

"I'm ok."

"I know I've been spending a lot of time with Jenna and Judy lately. I just wanted to make sure that…"

"They need a mom," Sophia said softly. "They don't have anybody. I get it."

"You're so grown up," Carol said with a sigh, moving across the room to sit on her daughter's bed.

"I'm thirteen now," Sophia said with a confident nod. Carol smiled sadly. While they didn't exactly know the date, they figured by the weather that her birthday had passed at some point. They'd had a party a week ago to celebrate. "You know, Judy won't have a birthday. I mean, nobody here knows when she was born, except for Carl, and he doesn't even know the day. It happened after the turn."

"Well, I'd say she's five, six months. That's how old you were when you started crawling."

"It's never going to go back, is it?" Sophia asked quietly, picking at her cuticles. "I mean, to the way it was."

"I don't think so, sweetie," Carol said softly, pulling herself to sit next to her daughter on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Sophia sighed and leaned against her mother's shoulder.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Daryl. Do you love him?" She looked up to meet her mother's gaze.

"I do. Very much."

"Good. He loves you to, you know."

"I know." A smile warmed Carol's face. "How do you feel about him?"

"He's a good guy. I mean, he helps me. He helps everybody. He helped Beth learn how to shoot, and you know how she is."

"Sophia Elizabeth Peletier!" Carol giggled. "That's not nice."

"I didn't mean it like that. If I was gonna have another dad, I'd want it to be him." Carol kissed the top of her daughter's head and pulled her arm around her. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything."

"Well…I mean, did…did Dad ever hit you?"

"What?" Carol asked, pulling back a little, turning her daughter's face so she could look into her eyes. "No. He never hit me. He…he raised his hand to me once, but he didn't hit me."

"Daryl wouldn't ever hurt you, would he?"

"No, honey. I don't think Daryl could ever do a thing like that. He's a good man." She watched as Sophia lowered her gaze and chewed her lip. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Dad hit me. Once."

"What?!"

"I…I rolled my eyes at him. He smacked me in the face." Carol froze, trying not to completely lose her mind over it, because after all, Ed was probably dead and there was no kind of punishment she could dole out on him now.

"Honey, why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I don't know," Sophia said gently. "It never happened again, and I didn't want you guys to fight anymore." Carol hugged her daughter close.

"It's _never_ ok for a man to put his hands on you like that. Do you understand me?"

"I do," Sophia said with a nod. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Sophia took a deep breath. "Mom, you and dad weren't happy."

"No, we weren't."

"You're happy with Daryl. So if guys do stay together, that's ok. He's a good guy."

"You're the best daughter any mom could ask for. You know that?" She saw Sophia's face brighten with a smile. "_Aaaand_, you're supposed to say ''cause I've got the best mom any daughter could ask for,' right?" Sophia laughed at that, and she hugged her again. "I love you."

"Love you too," Sophia said with a grin.

"And just remember that if a boy ever puts his hands on you and tries to hurt you, you can tell me, because I know how to use a gun, and I _will_ go after him."

"Ok, Mom, but I don't think Carl would ever…"

"Oh, Carl, huh?" Carol asked, watching Sophia's face turn bright red.

"No. I mean…I…"

"Yeah, uh-huh," Carol teased.

"_Mom_," Sophia groaned. "Please."

"Alright, alright. You staying up a little longer?" Carol asked, tapping the bottom of the oil lamp.

"Yeah," Sophia said softly. "I wanted to finish this next chapter."

"Alright. Have a good night, sweetie." Sophia nodded, and Carol got up to cross the room.

"Night, Mom." Sophia went back to her book as Carol left the room, heading back down the hall to her own room.

Carol was half-asleep when Daryl crawled into bed and snuggled up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him.

"Mmm," she moaned, turning her head slightly before he brushed her lips with his own. "You finish the crib?"

"Ain't never put one of those together before," she muttered against the back of her neck. "We 'bout put the thing together upside down 'fore we figured out we were wrong." Carol chuckled at that and turned in Daryl's arms, brushing her hand over his face, wishing she could see him in the dark.

"Can we continue our conversation from earlier?" she asked gently, running her fingertips over his lips. He kissed the pads of her fingers before gently biting a finger between his teeth. He released her and kissed her softly.

"You ain't too tired?" he asked.

"I had a catnap before you got home," she chuckled, sighing as his lips brushed over her neck. Daryl sighed softly and moved away. The bed shifted as he got up, and she could hear his feet scruff against the carpet as he made his way around the room. She heard a scrape. Another scrape, and then the hiss of the match as a glow filled the room. Daryl quickly let the oil lamp by their bed. Carol sat up as Daryl moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"The world ain't what it was. Ain't nothin' like it was. Never been a man of tradition or ritual. Never went to church, 'cept maybe once when I was little and my mama made me go." Carol smiled a little, moving to kneel behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder before pressing a kiss behind his ear. "I ain't never had nothin' like I got with you. You just…you're it." She felt his heartbeat race against her hand as she gently stroked his chest. "Everybody knows 'bout us. Ain't like we gotta shout from the rooftops or nothin'."

"No, we don't," she agreed, kissing the back of his neck, nuzzling him there. With a sigh, she scooted around to sit next to him on the bed. He moved his hand to her knee, and she trembled like it was the first time. That was the beauty of being with him. It was always exciting. It always made her feel like it was the first time, all tingly and warm and magical. "We have each other. We have Sophia. And now, well, we have Carl and Judith and Jenna. We've been a family from the night we met." Daryl chuckled and nodded his head. "I know you're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere."

"So you're sayin' we're stuck with each other."

"Daryl Dixon!" she laughed, nudging his shoulder.

"Gotta be stuck with anybody at the end of the world, I'd want it to be you. And, just so ya know, before Michonne even brought it up….I got this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white box. "Got it at the jewelry counter 'fore I made my last run to the back." Carol gasped softly, gently taking the box in her hand. "It's yours if ya want it." Her eyes met his, and a blush filled her cheeks before she opened the lid, revealing a silver band with diamonds set all around it.

"Oh God," she whispered, delicately running her thumb over the beautiful ring. "Daryl."

"They had all kinds of 'em. Bigger ones. Flashy ones. But this one…made me think'a you."

"It's…wow. Daryl…you…" She felt the tears stinging her eyes, and she swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I love you so much." She brought her hand to his cheek and leaned in to kiss him softly.

"This mean you'll…you'll wear it?" Carol nodded and bit her lower lip, as Daryl took the box from her hands.

"I will," she promised. He started to take the ring out, but she put her hand over his. "We don't have a preacher."

"Don't need one," Daryl said with a shrug. "The way it was ain't the way it is now. Don't care 'bout no piece of paper. Laws and rules ain't what they was." Carol's hand fell away, and she smiled as he gently slid the ring onto her ring finger. "That ok?"

"That's ok," she said with a smile before leaning in to kiss him again.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

"A little to the left." Carol stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, head cocked to the side as she watched Carl and Daryl center the tree just perfectly in the corner.

"Don't see the point," Carl muttered. "Can't plug it in. Gotta save the generators for cooking."

"The point," Carol began, "is that we're going to surprise Jenna in the morning with the biggest, prettiest Christmas tree she's ever seen, and it has to be perfect." Carl rolled his eyes.

"It's stupid and a waste of time."

"And what about those comic books you been readin'?" Daryl asked, taking his hands off the tree, watching Carl falter before gaining his balance. "Exactly how is that useful?"

"Whatever," Carl muttered. Daryl glanced at Carol, who gave him a hopeful smile. "It's stupid. You do it this year, she's gonna expect it every year."

"She's four-years-old, Carl," Carol said softly. "She just lost her parents, and…"

"Yeah. She's not the only one," he said quietly, letting go of the tree. "My dad's dead. Judith's never gonna remember him. Or mom. I have to do that for both of us." Carol could see the tears welling in Carl's eyes, and she reached out to him, but he ducked away, heading upstairs to his room. Carol sighed and pulled her fingers through her hair.

"Shit," she murmured. Daryl moved toward her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I fucked up."

"He's gonna be mad for a while," Daryl said quietly. "But we can't tiptoe 'round it. He's dealin' with it."

"Yeah," Carol said gently. "I wish there was something." Daryl nodded. "Can you talk to him?"

"Won't talk to me."

"Can you try? Again?"

"Can't guarantee nothin', but I can try."

"Thank you," Carol murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly. When he headed for the stairs, she gave his behind a little pat before turning back to finish decorating the tree.

"Go away," Carl muttered as Daryl knocked on his door.

"Ain't goin' away."

"Leave me alone."

"No," Daryl retorted, rolling his eyes on the other side of the door, suddenly feeling very juvenile. He opened the door and saw Carl sprawled out on his bed with one of his comic books opened. "Nobody's forgot 'bout your dad."

"Don't talk about him."

"Rick was a good man."

"Fuck you." Carl's eyes were cold on his.

"You watch your mouth boy."

"You can't tell me what to do. You're not my dad. Just leave me alone!" Daryl was across the room in two quick strides, and Carl scrambled to sit up as Daryl got about two inches from his face.

"I'm not your daddy. Ain't tryin' to be. But you're just a damned kid. You wanna act like you can take care of yourself? Fine. Try it. Be my guest. You go pick out your own fancy little house down the street and see how long it takes 'fore you come runnin' back for somethin' to eat and someone to talk to. Trust me, kid. Bein' alone ain't nothin' to hope for." Carl huffed and looked away, blinking back tears, hoping like Hell Daryl hadn't seen them. "Look, I didn't have a good daddy. Mine was a piece of shit that knew how to make kids but not how to take care of 'em. Your daddy? Your daddy was a good man. He tried to do right by you and your sister."

"It's not fair," Carl said softly, sniffling. "He should still be here."

"I know," Daryl said quietly. "But he ain't. And that's the problem with this shithole world we gotta live in."

"He trusted you," Carl sniffled. "He told me he did. He said he thought you and Carol were good people. He said if anything happened to him, I should listen to you." He wiped at his eyes. "I don't want another dad."

"I don't need another kid," Daryl snorted, getting a half smile out of Carl. "We got too many of 'em crawlin' 'round this place anyway."

"Judith likes you. And Carol." Carl sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess it isn't so bad for her to have you guys. She needs a mom and a dad. I don't."

"That's ok," Daryl said quietly. "And you're her big brother, so you're gonna tell her all about Rick and your mom. She's gonna know where she comes from." Carl nodded, as Daryl clapped him on the shoulder. Daryl got up to cross the room, stopping before he reached the door. "Don't matter how old you are. Sometimes ya _do_ need a mom and a dad. Wished _my _old man had'a been the kinda dad I could count on." Carl went to pick up his comic book. "Hey, kid." He looked back up at Daryl. "Wanna go huntin' with me tomorrow? See if we can't find a turkey for Christmas dinner?"

"Really?" Carl asked, perking up a little. "You're not taking Tyreese?"

"Whaddya say?"

"Sure." Carl said with a smile. "Thanks." Daryl nodded and walked out of the room, feeling a little better, though he knew nothing he said or did would make up for the fact that that boy's father wasn't here. It was just something they were all going to have to live with for whatever time they had left together.

"Santa came?! Santa came?!" Jenna asked excitedly, bouncing up and down as she admired the beautiful Christmas tree with silver and red and green and blue decorations.

"Not yet, sweetheart," Carol explained to her. "We just figured we'd put the tree up so Santa would know where to look." Jenna furrowed her brows at Carol.

"Are there other boys and girls out there waiting for Santa?"

"I hope so, sweetheart," Carol murmured. "I really do." Jenna smiled with glee, and paced back and forth in front of the tree, admiring the decorations and the angel on top.

"Did a good job," Daryl said quietly against her ear as he pressed up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She relaxed against his chest and made a soft humming sound. "You must'a stayed up late."

"I did," she admitted. "I'm a little tired. If Judy and Jenna will let me, I'm going to try and get a catnap in while you boys are out hunting."

"You sure you don't wanna go along? You're 'bout as good as I am with a bow these days."

"No, you take Carl. I don't want to break up the manly hunting experience." Daryl snorted and nudged the back of her neck with his nose. "You just find us a bird, and I'll take care of the rest."

"A'right. I'll go check the generator. Make sure it's still plenty full." He gave her a chaste kiss on the side of the neck, his stubble bristling over her skin, and she giggled, biting her lip before he released her and hurried off to check the generator.

Beth came wandering down the stairs, looking about twice as tired as Carol. Baby Judith was on her hip, and she yawned as she stumbled into the living room.

"Nice tree," she murmured.

"Sweetie, you look awful."

"I was out late." Beth's eyes darted around nervously.

"With Noah?" Carol asked, ducking her head and smiling. Beth's smile widened and she nodded. "Look, I know it's absolutely none of my business, but you two…you're being…careful?"

"We're not…I mean…no! I mean, yes!" Beth's face turned a few shades of pink before she took a calming breath. "We haven't. Not yet, anyway."

"Oh. Ok." Carol smiled to herself. "You want some coffee?"

"Yes, please," Beth said with wide eyes and an eager grin. Carol chuckled, and she took baby Judith in her arms. The two women headed into the kitchen, where Carol went to work at making a hot pot of coffee. Judith chewed on a baby biscuit from her high chair, and for a few shining moments, it felt like the way it used to be, before the turn, before the world outside was a wasteland filled with walking corpses.

A knock came to the back door.

"It's open," Carol called out, placing a few coffee cups on the counter. Michonne came walking through.

"Morning," she said with a smile.

"Good morning," Carol replied cheerfully. "Where's Andre?"

"Sasha's watching him. She says she needs the practice. I tried to warn her that he's got more energy than all of us put together, but she doesn't think it'll be a big deal."

"Well, you warned her at least," Carol said with a shrug. She poured the first cup of coffee for Beth, who blew over the top of the cup before taking a little sip. It was when the sun glinted off the diamonds on Carol's ring that she choked and nearly spat out her drink. As the girl sputtered, Carol instinctively patted her on the back, as she'd done for Sophia many times over the years. "You ok?"

"What…is that?" Beth wiped her mouth on a napkin as she insistently jabbed her finger in the direction of Carol's ring. Michonne's eyes widened as she moved across the kitchen.

"Good question. _What_ is that?" Carol smiled and held her hand up for the ladies to get a better look, and she bit her lip nervously.

"Daryl gave it to me. We…kind of got married."

"What?!" Beth asked. "When?"

"A couple nights ago. After we made that run for supplies." She gave Michonne a little nod.

"Oh my _God_! Daryl has good taste." Her jaw dropped a little. "Wait. This isn't 'cause of what I said is it?"

"No," Carol laughed. "He already had it picked out before. But I do have to thank you for pushing us to have that…very awkward conversation."

"So…get to the part where you got married," Beth insisted, taking another sip of coffee.

"Yeah, that's what I'm waiting for. I never got an invitation."

"Well, we don't…things are different. There aren't ceremonies. There aren't marriage licenses. There's just…us."

"So, he puts the ring on your finger, and that's it? You're just…married?"

"Pretty much," Carol said with a little shrug, pouring a cup of coffee for Michonne and for herself.

"And he's not completely freaking out?" Beth asked, eyes wide.

"What do you mean?"

"It's Daryl," Beth laughed. "I mean, he blushes when you kiss his cheek." Carol noticed Daryl walking around the side of the house, heading toward the door. She smirked a little.

"We'll see." As soon as he stepped through the door, she moved over, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. He blushed accordingly and nodded his hellos to Michonne and Beth. "Morning, husband."

"Mornin', wife," he murmured, before she gave him a peck on the lips. And then he was off to do whatever it was he was doing. Carol turned to Michonne and Beth, who both looked at each other like they'd woken up in the Twilight Zone.

"Nope. Not freaking out," Carol replied with a grin.

"Oh my God," Beth laughed. "So…do we call you Mrs. Dixon from now on?"

"Just…call me Carol." The three of them sat around for a while longer chatting about the ring and this new change. It wasn't long before Beth was encouraging Michonne to help her plan a party. After all, any good news was something to be celebrated these days. And before long, a belated wedding reception was in full swing of being planned.

Shane cursed as he tugged his torn glove off of his hand and whipped it across the cab of the truck. He huffed a hot breath against his fingers, trying to warm them as he drove through the snow in an old car with no working heater.

Being told to get the hell out by his fellow survivors had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and while he'd thought good and hard about going back and killing them all in their sleep, he'd decided they weren't worth the trouble. No. He was going to save his energy for Dixon and his whore.

He'd kept his eyes on the road, searching for any sign of tire tracks, any sign of life, but so far, he'd found nothing. When he took a wide turn down a new highway, he felt a bitterness rising up in his throat thinking back to that night, the night he'd killed his best friend—his partner.

He'd watched the color drain from Rick's face as he'd begun to bleed out and fall to the floor. He'd watched as something flickered in Rick's eyes, something of recognition and horror that he was being put down by his best friend. What was worse, he hadn't stayed to see him die. He hadn't even done the right thing by shooting him in the head. No. He'd left him to turn out of anger, out of not having his back.

Shane slammed his hand on the steering wheel just as he hit a slick patch on the road. The car swerved and ended up nose down in the ditch.

"Fuck!" Shane hissed, grabbing his pack out of the passenger's seat. He slung it over his shoulder and crawled out the door, pulling himself out of the ditch. It was then that he noticed the glint of sunlight off of the steel of a pistol.

Sitting in the snow with his back against a tree was a middle-aged man with a reddened face, chapped by the freezing wind. The man passed the gun back and forth between his hands, and Shane eyed him, taking his own gun into his hand for protection.

"You alright, friend?" the man asked, eyeing Shane as he brushed the snow off of his pant legs.

"Friend?" Shane asked. "I'm alright. Car's a piece of shit anyway. I'll find another."

"Just go pick yourself out another one, huh?" the man asked, unscrewing the lid of a flask before tipping it up to his lips. He winced at the flavor before groaning in pain. Shane noticed the bite mark on his hand and promptly lifted the gun. "Was gonna do it myself, but I used my last bullet putting that motherfucker down." The man nodded to the corpse on the ground. "God damn things bite hard."

Shane stepped closer, aim tightly trained on the man's forehead.

"You gonna pull that trigger today, son?"

"You got a group?"

"Me?" the man asked, letting out a sigh that came out more like a wheezing laugh. "No group. Been on my own from the start." He snorted. "My wife. She always said I didn't know how to get along with other people. Guess that's the damned truth. Guess that's why she's my ex-wife now. Guess that's how you end up all alone at the end of the world." He tightened his hold on his hand, blood spurting out from between the fingers on his good hand.

Shane took a step closer to the man, seeing the way his breaths came out in quick, sharp puffs as the heels of his boots dug into the ground, offering him some sort of leverage as he arched into the tree, a sharp knot digging into his back as he tried to take the focus off the pain in his hand.

"Can't count on anybody. That's how you get yourself killed at the end of the world," Shane murmured, eyes trained on the wounded man.

"Damn right about that."

"Where were you headed?"

"Don't rightly know," the man said quietly. "When it happened, I tried calling my wife. Tried to get her to answer, but she was gone. Went to her house. She wasn't there. Thought, even if she hates my guts, having someone's better than not having anybody. But she was gone. Packed herself up. Packed my kid up. Left. No idea where."

"You ever think they might just be dead?"

"If they're dead, they didn't die at home. No, she'd have gotten out quick. Wouldn't wanna be stuck in the middle of it when all hell broke loose. Would've gotten distance from the city. Wherever she is, she ain't with me. Guess it's my fault anyhow. Didn't treat her right. Didn't treat our girl right." Shane flinched at that. "You got a woman?"

"She's dead," Shane spoke shortly.

"Too bad. You gotta find something. Find something you're willing to hold onto with your life. That gets you through this. My daughter. She needs a father. I was trying to get to her, but I think…she's dead now. I think it's better to believe that." Shane thought about the rest of that group, about how Daryl had swooped in with his ideas and got Rick's attention. How Rick had been willing to listen to this stranger instead of his own partner.

"I gotta tell you somethin', buddy," Shane said with a dry chuckle, "when shit gets real, that's when you see who you can trust. You can't trust nobody. Not one fuckin' person in this world has your back when it comes down to it. You only got yourself to take care of."

"Amen to that," the man chuckled, taking one final swig from his flask. Shane raised his gun again.

"You got a name, man?"

"Ed," he choked out, wincing in pain. "Just Ed."

"Ed, I hope you find your peace, man. Maybe the next life'll be better to ya."

"Next life," Ed snorted. "Fuck all, I hope not. Ain't about that comin' back business. The devil can keep me." His eyes were clear now, trained on Shane's. "You shoot me, you do it right. Ain't comin' back as one of these bastards."

"Trust me, Ed. I know how to put a man down." He cocked the gun and emptied a bullet into Ed's skull, standing still, eyes trained as the man's face drained of color and life, as he body went slack against the tree trunk, as blood began to spill into the snow, soaking it through.

Slowly, Shane lowered the gun and adjusted his pack over his shoulder. Holstering his gun, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed off, putting distance between himself and the dead man before the walkers came. They always came after a gunshot.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The moments after coffee in the morning, when Sophia would come down the stairs and chatter away about all she wanted to do that day, those were the moments that Carol noticed Michonne would go somewhere else. She'd sit there silently, but she was somewhere else. The look in her eyes showed a woman who was trying to hold onto something, trying not to show the world what she'd lost.

This morning, however, Judith made a mess with her biter biscuit, and Carol had noticed Michonne's distant look.

"Sophia, sweetie, can you take Judith and clean her up?"

"Sure," she offered. She hurried out of the room with the baby, and Carol sat down next to Michonne.

"Where are you?"

"Huh?"

"What's going on?"

"I feel like I'm playing a character," Michonne stated softly, tracing her finger along the top of her coffee cup.

"What do you mean?"

"I try to stay in character. I try to be happy, because I need my son to feel like everything's going to be ok. But at night?" She dug into her pocket, pulling out a silver locket necklace. "This was Aliyah's. Ali's." Carol felt her heart sink in her chest. "The day we saw each other in the woods? I told you Sophia's bracelet reminded me of someone. I picked it up, because I thought Ali might like it."

"Ali. Your daughter?" Michonne smiled sadly. "I was hunting. Mike—my husband—was watching Ali and Andre. After I showed you where I found the bracelet, after I left, I went back to the barn we'd been staying at. I was running it through my head, trying to figure out a way to tell Mike I hadn't found any food. There'd been a few rabbits, but they'd gotten away. I was _so_ worried about seeing the hunger in his eyes, in Ali's eyes." Carol gently put her hand on Michonne's back. "I knew something was wrong when I got close to the barn. I _knew_. It was so quiet. Too quiet. They knew to be quiet, but it wasn't just then. The animals. The birds. Nothing. When I walked around the side of the barn, that's when I saw the doors swinging open in the breeze, walkers roaming in and out. And then I saw my Ali." She wiped a tear from her cheek. She was one of them. She was…and I just…" She choked back a sob.

"You had to do it, didn't you?"

"I couldn't see her like that. She was just…she was seven. She was just a baby." Michonne bit her trembling lower lip. "And then there was Mike on the ground. The other walkers. They were…there was nothing left."

"Oh God. I'm so sorry," Carol murmured softly, pulling her arm around her friend. "I'm so sorry."

"I put them all down. I cut into them. I thought it might…might bring some sort of justice, but it didn't." She gave a little shrug. "I wanted to set the place on fire. I wanted to just walk away. But I buried my Ali. And what was left of Mike." She sniffled. "And I was going to leave. Just walk away. I didn't want to see my son like that. I couldn't." She wiped at her eyes. I went inside. I didn't see him. There was so much blood, and I thought…I thought they'd just…" She swallowed hard and shook her head. "And then I heard something from the loft where we'd slept. I climbed up, and there he was, safe and sound. Asleep in the straw. I just…I just held him to me, and I promised that when I got him someplace safe, I'd be happy. He'd be happy. We could just…forget. I can't forget them. I can't. But remembering? It's…"

"It's a kind of pain you wish you could numb," Carol said gently. "I know. When I thought Sophia was…I just…it was something I couldn't put together. It didn't make sense. _Nothing_ made sense. But Daryl helped me. He was good. He was…" She shook her head. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to see your daughter like that."

"I should have been there. I should have…"

"If you'd have been there, you might be dead, too. And then where would Andre be? Hmm?"

"I'm sorry," Michonne murmured. "I shouldn't…it was a good morning. You should be in your happy newlywed phase, and I'm just…"

"Hey," Carol said gently, "I'm always here if you need to talk. I'm so sorry for what happened to your husband. And your little girl." Michonne took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed a little.

"You're the first person I've told about them. Not even Noah or Ty or Sasha. What is it about you?" Carol chuckled at that.

"I guess I have one of those faces." Michonne smiled a little, and Carol gave her a hug. "Any time. I'm serious. You shouldn't have to carry all of that alone."

"Thank you," Michonne said softly. "Thank you."

The clouds had rolled in from out of nowhere, and the snow was coming down in thick sheets. Snow in Georgia wasn't the rarest thing, but this much snow was like something out of the movies. It didn't seem real. The winter was unusually cold, and Daryl couldn't help but wonder if this was Mother Nature's way of saying Hell was freezing over. After all, the dead were walking. What was next?

"Think it's about eighteen pounds," Carl offered, grunting as he hoisted the sack with the dead turkey inside.

"Maybe thirteen," Daryl muttered, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket and giving it a light. "Been a bad winter. Food's scarce for everybody. Everything."

"You still smoke?" Carl scoffed.

"Sometimes," Daryl shrugged. "You ain't gonna, though."

"Wouldn't want to. It's gross," Carl replied with an eyeroll. Daryl snorted.

"Right about that. Don't do it much. Just thought it might warm me up."

"Never seen it snow like this," Carl muttered.

"My granddad," Daryl pointed out, "he took me and Merle—that's my brother—to Colorado when we was little. Don't remember much. Don't remember him. Just remember snow. More snow than you ever could imagine." Carl watched as Daryl dragged his boot through the snow as they walked, kicking the soft, fluffy snow, watching it blow up into the air, glittering in the sunlight as it settled back down over the earth.

"You miss your parents? I mean, I know you said your dad was shitty, but…"

"Can ya talk like a twelve year old?"

"I'm thirteen," Carl grumbled.

"Oh, well, that makes all the difference," Daryl snorted. Carl rolled his eyes.

"Even if he wasn't a good dad, do you still miss him?"

"Nah," Daryl said with a shrug. "Don't miss him. Miss what I didn't have, I guess."

"I miss my Dad," Carl said quietly. "I feel bad. We got along, but sometimes I wasn't so nice. After my mom died, I think he…he thought I blamed him. I didn't though. And I never told him."

"He knew," Daryl said quietly. "He was proud of ya. You know that." Carl ducked his head low for a moment.

"So you and Carol got married?"

"Yeah," Daryl murmured, adjusting his crossbow on his shoulder. He eyed the boy.

"Cool," was Carl's response, before he heaved the bag with the dead turkey over his shoulder and walked on in silence toward the truck.

While Jenna napped and Judith napped, Carol spent the better part of the afternoon wrapping up toys that they'd found on runs and hadn't given the kids yet. Clothes were also wrapped, and Michonne came over around dusk to wrap a few things for Andre. They had decided to do Christmas morning at the Dixon house, and Michonne had already been extended an invitation. Sasha wandered over at one point, and Beth came down from her after-coffee cat nap, and the women chatted about Carol's wedding reception excitedly, all the while Carol kept reminding them that she didn't want all that fuss. She was perfectly happy just knowing that she and Daryl had promised themselves to one another forever.

Then Sophia had come down and explained that she was a little disappointed that she hadn't gotten the chance to be her mother's maiden of honor, and Carol had promptly told her that it wasn't the wedding and the ceremony that mattered to her. It was the people in her life that mattered to her, and she had that all the time.

Around dinner time, Carol started to worry, pacing back and forth at the front window, eyeing the street, looking for any sign of Daryl and Carl.

"They've been gone too long," Carol murmured, picking at a loose string on her sweater sleeve.

"It's Daryl. He knows what he's doing," Michonne offered.

"What if they were attacked? What if they're stuck somewhere out there, freezing?"

"Hey," Beth offered, putting a hand on Carol's shoulder. "Come on. Jenna's asking for you to read the Christmas book." Carol sighed and bit her lip nervously. "I offered to do it, but she only wants you. Come on. You have to stop worrying."

Everybody had already gotten hungry, and there would be no waiting on a turkey tonight. Tyreese had helped get the generator going so they could prepare a hot meal, and now that everybody had already eaten and were now just picking at the meager leftovers, Carol was starting to really worry about Daryl and Carl.

"Come on," Sasha urged. Everybody moved from the dinner table to the living room and sat around on the various chairs and on the couch. Beth moved to settle in next to Noah, their hands linking together. Carol couldn't help but smile at how happy the both of them looked.

Carol sat down and dutifully read the Christmas book to Jenna and Judith, and by the time the sky was completely black with a new moon, Carol put the children to bed before staying goodnight to her house guests.

"Mama, I'll stay up with you and wait if you want," Sophia offered, yawning into her hand from the couch.

"Honey, it's ok. It's late. You should go to sleep."

"Let me help you put the presents out, at least."

"Sure." Carol wrapped her arm around her daughter, and they made their way to the hall closet, where the wrapped presents had been stashed out of Jenna's sight.

"She'll be so excited," Sophia said with a grin.

"I remember when you were that age. Christmas morning was magic. You came bounding in at five in the morning, and I know your dad and I always acted like we were exhausted, but to be honest, we'd been awake since four just waiting for you to come wake us up." Sophia grinned at that.

"I knew Santa wasn't real, but you seemed so happy watching me open presents."

"You knew?" Carol asked. "That young?"

"Well, I kinda figured it out when I got up for a glass of water one night, and you and dad were putting my doll house together. Dad was drinking a glass of scotch, and he made some stupid joke about you wearing a Mrs. Clause outfit, which I totally didn't get at the time—thank God—and you told him that he'd have to be a lot more jolly to get away with putting on a Santa suit." Carol's cheeks flushed at her daughter's admission. "But you were always so excited for me to open my 'from Santa' presents, so I never told you."

"How did I get so lucky to have a daughter like you?" Carol asked with a sigh, pulling her daughter into a hug. Sophia smiled and helped her mother carry the presents from the closet to the tree, and they arranged them all around, making it feel something like the way it used to be.

They sat up for a little while longer, but after a while, Sophia could barely keep her eyes open. Carol sent her on up to bed and finally resigned herself to sleeping on the couch, waiting and hoping Daryl would return soon. The later it got, the more anxious she became. All she wanted was him home. Safe. Where the hell was he?


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

"Mom? Mom! Mama, wake up!" Carol jolted awake when Sophia shook her shoulders. She sat up on the couch quickly her gaze darting around the dark room. Sophia's hair was a mess, and her eyes were tired from sleep, but Carol could tell from the bobbing balls of light flashing past her windows that the others were outside with flashlights, which meant that Daryl and Carl must be returning.

"Stay with Judy and Jenna," Carol urged. Sophia nodded, and Carol pulled on her coat and boots before rushing out the door, grabbing a flashlight on the way out. But as she followed the group with her gaze, she realized they weren't going to the gates. They were going to Tyreese and Sasha's house. Tyreese was backing the group with Noah, which meant they'd left to go back. A realization hit Carol at that moment. Sasha.

She picked up the pace and nearly smacked right into Michonne, who ran out of her house carrying Andre all bundled up in his coat.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. I think it's Sasha. Take Andre to my house. Sophia's there with Judy and Jenna." Michonne nodded and hurried off, while Carol rushed up the path. Sasha's wails could be heard all through the house, and Tyreese stood frozen like a statue at the bottom of the stairs.

"Tyreese? What happened?" Carol asked softly, the soft light from her flashlight flooding the room.

"She's…she said it's time. I…"

"Ok," Carol murmured. "Ok. Just sit down on the couch." She helped him over, seeing his eyes widen as Sasha cried out in pain. "Ok. Good. Just wait here." She turned to go, but Tyreese reached out, grabbing her wrist. Carol turned to him quickly.

"That's my baby sister, you understand? I can't lose her." He was trembling, and Carol gave his hand a squeeze.

"Breathe, Tyreese. Just…Noah!" Noah and Beth were halfway down the stairs. "Beth. Noah? Can you two please sit with Tyreese?"

"She's hurting real bad," Noah pointed out, nodding toward the stairs. Carol bit her lower lip and nodded, getting up to go to the stairs and up to Sasha.

When she reached the room, Sasha was panting and crying on the mattress, and Carol shut the door giving her some privacy.

"God, it hurts," Sasha cried out.

"I know. I know. Just breathe, ok?"

"You've done this. How did you do it?" Sasha pleaded, gripping the sheets and twisting them in her hands.

"You just breathe through the pain. You focus on that baby. Bob's baby, right?"

"Bob," Sasha cried. "I can't do this without him."

"Yes you can! You can do this. You are strong, Sasha. You've made it this far. You can make it through this. You just have to breathe and focus on this baby. Can you do that for me?" Sasha sobbed but nodded, and Carol moved to wet a cloth in the wash basin by Sasha's bed. She gently patted down the girl's forehead, cooling her off.

"Have you ever done this before?" Sasha asked, as the contraction subsided.

"No," Carol admitted. "I haven't."

"Well," Sasha panted, "that makes two of us. But at least you've been through this part."

"Oh I have," Carol chuckled. "And I remember every excruciating second." She took Sasha's hand in her own. "And I remember that none of that pain compared to the joy of seeing Sophia's face for the first time." She squeezed her hand. "You'll feel it. That moment where the rest of the world falls away and only that little baby in your arms matters. No pain is bad enough to take that moment away from you."

Sasha winced in pain again, but nodded, letting Carol know she heard her, and then the pain intensified, and she cried out through the contraction.

"It's ok. It's ok," Carol soothed, gently stroking Sasha's hair. "Just breathe through it. That's it." All the while helping Sasha through her labor, Carol couldn't help but feel that unsettling feeling of worry over Daryl and Carl. Where were they? What was taking them so long? What if Sasha was bringing one life into the world while two other lives were—no. She couldn't let herself think like that. She had to keep focused for Sasha and her baby, and when it was all over, she could go back to her own worries. Right now, she had to help this baby into the world.

A chorus of joy rang out behind the door as Sasha's baby cried her first cry. Carol wrapped the little one up and promptly handed her to her mother.

"You have a daughter," she said with a grin, tears glimmering in her eyes as the tears streaked down Sasha's cheeks.

"Oh my God," Sasha whimpered. "It's you. It's you." She helped Carol wipe the baby off, and the little one fussed and let out a loud wail. "Is she ok?" The worry rose in Sasha's eyes, and Carol gave her a little smile.

"She's got healthy lungs." That seemed to appease the new mom for the time being, and she leaned down to kiss her baby's cheek.

"Hi Lily," Sasha murmured. "I'm your mama."

"Lily?" Carol asked gently. Sasha nodded.

"It's what Bob wanted to name the baby if she was a girl." Sasha smiled sadly. "He wanted a little girl so bad." Carol leaned over to gently squeeze Sasha's shoulder. "You did great." She watched the new mom cuddling her baby, and she thought back to Sophia's first moments. Those were happy times, and she could just about remember everything that happened that day. She wondered if it was that way for all mothers, if they could remember every last detail, down to the curtains on the windows in the room.

"You were right," Sasha breathed, holding her baby close. "I feel it. She's…she's everything." Carol smiled and nodded.

"Worth the pain, right?" Carol asked.

"I'd go through it ten times over if I had to, just to see her face." Sasha wiped her own tears away. "I didn't think I could love anybody this much."

After Carol had gotten Sasha cleaned up and covered her with a fresh, clean blanket, the sun began to filter in through the curtains, and Carol took a deep breath, moving to wash her hands in the basin. She peeked out the window, watching the early morning light chase away the shadows. She could see a gathering of walkers at the gates, who were no doubt drawn by Sasha's cries during labor.

Carol sighed heavily and dried her hands off on a clean towel.

"You up for some visitors?"

"Yeah," Sasha said with a sleepy smile, sitting up in the bed a little.

"I'll send Tyreese in first." Carol gave Sasha a smile and headed for the door, pulling her coat on as she went. The second she was in the hallway, she was bombarded by excited hugs and wonderings about Sasha and the baby.

"Tyreese?" Carol said with a beaming smile, "go meet your niece. She's pretty cute!"

"A girl?" Tyreese asked with wide eyes and an even wider smile. "She's ok? Sasha's ok?"

"They're great," Carol assured him. "Go on." Carol gave his arm a pat, and he hurried in to see Sasha and the baby. Carol yawned and stretched as she made her way down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Beth asked gently.

"There's a buildup at the gates. I'm going to go pick some of them off."

"Oh," Beth said softly. "But you've gotta be exhausted." She gave Noah's hand a tug. "We'll help."

"You don't have to do that. It's freezing outside."

"We're helping," Beth insisted with a confident nod.

"I'll get the coats and the knives. We'll meet you by the gates," Noah assured Carol. She nodded and headed out on her own, walking out to a small shed by the gates that housed a few necessary items for walker-picking. She grabbed a small crossbow, one that Daryl had picked up for Sophia on a recent supply run. She felt confident enough in her crossbow skills to use it this time.

She grabbed the arrows and climbed up so she could get a good angle. One by one, she took down about a dozen walkers, before the herd was thinned out enough that she could hop down and open the gates. Noah and Beth came to help, each of them taking out a few walkers at Carol's side.

When they were finished, Carol retrieved her arrows and made a mental note to clean them later, and she was just about to usher Noah and Beth inside and shut the gates when she heard the familiar revving of Daryl's truck engine.

"Is that….?" Beth's voice trailed off.

"Daryl." Carol's heart leapt in her chest, and she found herself standing on her tip toes, peering down the street in the early morning light, trying to spot him. The sound grew louder, and in a couple of moments, the truck came into view, speeding down the icy street.

"They're comin' fast. They're gonna crash right into the gate," Noah murmured, grabbing Beth's hand and pulling her out of the way. Carol moved with them, and as the truck grew closer, she could hear the brakes squeal as the truck swerved and spun on the ice, finally coming to a shuddering stop about ten feet from the gates.

Carol took off running toward the truck as Carl hopped out of the back, eyes wide, hands covered with blood.

"Oh God!" she cried out. She saw the tears in his eyes, and that was when she saw Daryl lying unconscious in the back of the truck.

"He came out of nowhere," Carl sobbed. "Daryl's alive. He's alive. But he won't wake up." The boy brushed his own tears away, sniffling and trying to be strong as he ran to Carol and clung to her in a desperate hug. Carol felt like the breath was knocked out of her, and she gasped as the world spun around her.

The truck door swung open, and a familiar face hopped out.

"Hershel?!" Carol choked out, gasping as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Got knocked out," Hershel murmured rushing over to the truck. "Feral dog came outta nowhere. Knocked him off his feet. Hit his head on a patch of ice. He's been out since."

"Oh God," Carol cried out. "He's ok? He'll be ok?"

"Let's get him inside. Don't look too serious, but he's weak from exhaustion and hunger. Gonna need to warm him up. Maybe that'll get him woke."

Carol pulled herself into the back of the truck, gently lifting Daryl's head. He moaned softly in his sleep, and she buried her face against his neck.

"You're alive," she whispered. "Thank God. Thank God." She sniffled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a relief watching over her at seeing him, but a new fear creeping into her heart as she watched his head loll to the side. "Please wake up. Please."

"Daddy!" Beth cried out, moving in to wrap her arms around his neck. He held her close, and he kissed her cheek, and he rocked her back and forth gently like she was still a little girl. "I thought…I thought…"

"I know," he choked out. "Me too, Bethy. But you're alright. You're ok." He held her tight for a few moments before looking around, eyes filled with worry. "Are they here?"

"Who?" Carol sniffled.

"My Maggie. Glenn."

"They're alive? Oh God." She let out a little sob. "Thank God."

"We were together," Hershel explained. "The three of us in the woods when we saw what happened to Daryl. I took off ahead, and then…when I looked back, they were gone. I need to go back. I just wanted to get him here." He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his white hair. "I left them. I left them behind."

"It's ok, Daddy," Beth offered gently, squeezing his arm. "We'll find them. We will."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"We lost track of time," Carl said quietly, as he sat next to Daryl's bedside. They'd gotten him cleaned up and put quite a few stitches in the back of his head, and they'd gotten him warm, but he still wasn't waking up. "We found a deer, and I wanted to track it. I wanted to learn. We had enough daylight, and Daryl said we could track it for a while. I wanted to kill it for meat. For the group. It was stupid. We already had the turkey. I should have just…"

"It's ok," Carol said softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"We got deeper into the woods, and Daryl wanted to turn back, but I caught sight of it, and I just…I went after it, and he went after me. I'm sorry, Carol. This _is_ my fault."

Hershel Greene came walking into the room.

"How's the patient?" he asked, moving to open Daryl's eyes to check his pupils.

"Nothing yet," Carol said gently.

"Give him time. He really went down hard." Carl dipped his head low, covering his face with his hands. "If it wasn't for this boy here, he'd be dead now." Carol cast a glance at the boy. Carl's head popped up, and he stared at the older man. "That dog would have ripped Daryl apart, but Carl here acted quick. Put the dog down. By the time I got there, he was already trying to drag him to the truck. Carl Grimes, your father would be so proud of you." Carl swallowed hard and blinked away hot tears.

"It's my fault," Carl murmured. "I got him hurt."

"You saved his life," Carol breathed softly, stroking the boy's back. "And I know Daryl wouldn't blame you." She placed a kiss atop Carl's head, and she nodded for Hershel to follow her out of the room. Once outside, she gave him a quick hug.

"Thank you."

"You keep an eye on him. I suspect he'll be waking in a couple hours. When he does, he's gonna be wanting to get up. You tell him to stay in bed and not move around too much. He's gonna be feeling pretty rough for a couple of days." He took a deep breath. "I have to ask about Jenna." Carol's eyes filled with recognition. "Shane told Glenn that Jenna was dead."

"You were with Shane?"

"We were. We separated from him. He told us Jenna was dead. Andrea got sick, and as she was dying, she told us that Shane lied. That he didn't know. Glenn…he's going to want to know. Did you see? Did you see what happened?"

"She's ok," Carol said with a little smile, tears falling again. "She's doing great. She's…Hershel, you have to find them. The only thing in the world this little girl wants is her mom and dad."

"Sarah didn't make it, but Glenn, he's been…lost without Jenna. He needs this."

"Find him. Please. See if you can get Noah to go with you and look. He's becoming a good tracker." Hershel nodded his thanks before disappearing down the stairs. Carol took a couple of breaths before peeking in on Judith and Jenna, who were still both sound asleep.

"I hope he finds your daddy, sweetheart," Carol whispered, leaning against the door frame. "I hope he's not too late." With a sigh, she shut the door and headed back to be with Daryl.

"Daddy, I'm going with you," Beth insisted, as she followed Hershel and Noah out of the house and to Daryl's truck.

"It's easier this way. I don't want to have to worry about you, too," Hershel explained, as he hopped in the driver's seat. Beth sighed and hopped in the passenger's seat.

"I'm not a little kid. I know how to shoot. I can even track a little. I can do this."

"I believe you," he said quietly, "but I want to know you're safe. I need to know that." He gave her a little smile. "You'll understand someday. When you're a parent."

"I would never bring a baby into this world," she said quietly, eyes fixing on the gate as Noah opened it so Hershel could pull through. "No baby deserves to be born into this Hell." Hershel stopped the truck outside the gates and waited for Noah to come out and shut them behind himself.

"The only way we get to live in this world is if we _really_ live," Hershel said quietly. "If we give up and let ourselves die out, then the world truly does belong to the dead."

"It already does," Beth murmured. "What do we have? Some houses behind a wall? What houses behind the wall? What are we supposed to do? Repopulate the world? I want no part of it." Beth folded her arms across her chest. "I'm going with you. You can't stop me, Daddy. I'm going."

"You looking for us?" Hershel turned his head quickly to see his daughter and Glenn walking toward the truck, faces red from the cold but smiling nonetheless.

"How…"

"That's the beautiful thing about snow," Maggie said with a smile. "We followed your tracks." Hershel jumped out of the truck and pulled his oldest daughter into a crushing hug, and her own tears began to flow as she hugged her father. "We got sidetracked by walkers. That's why you didn't see us. It's why we were behind. But we made it. We're ok. So are you. Thank God."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. He was bleeding, and the boy was crying, and…I wanted to look for you, but the snow was starting and I…" Hershel was trembling now, his face somber and guilt-ridden. Maggie held a hand up.

"Daddy, it's ok. Daryl was hurt. You did exactly what I knew you'd do. You helped. And I'm glad you did, because you brought him here, and we followed you. Look at this place," Maggie sniffled. "And you know I can take care of myself. You know Glenn can. We're ok. You did the right thing, Daddy."

"Maggie!" Beth exclaimed excitedly, rushing over to pull her arms around her sister. They held onto one another, crying and laughing as Hershel moved to give Glenn a welcoming hug.

"You've got to be freezing."

"Just a bit," Glenn snickered. "How's Daryl?"

"Hasn't woke up."

"Carol's with him. Carl too," Noah spoke up from nearby, opening the gates again. "You all get in, I'll pull the truck inside." Everybody did as Noah said, and he got the car through the gates before they shut it, securing themselves once again.

"This is Noah," Beth said softly. Maggie saw the blush fill Beth's cheeks, and she smiled, holding her hand out.

"Nice to meet you, Noah. I'm Beth's sister Maggie. And this is our dad, Hershel."

"Nice to finally meet you both. Beth's told me so much about you." The group caught up on their way back to Carol's house, and before they reached the sidewalk, Hershel grabbed Glenn's arm.

"I have something to tell you."

Carol heard the soft tapping at the door, and when it swung open, Jenna stood there with sleepy eyes. Her hair was a mess, her pink pajamas were all wrinkled, and one of her socks hung halfway off of her foot. Despite the grim situation, Carol couldn't help but smile at the little girl and motion her over.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Why's Daryl sleeping?" she asked softly.

"Daryl hurt his head, honey," she said gently, pulling Jenna to sit on her lap. Jenna frowned and crawled off of Carol's lap and onto Daryl's bed. She gently put her hand on her cheek. Carol curiously watched the little girl for a few minutes. Jenna sighed, studying Daryl's face before she looked up at Carol with a very serious expression.

"You should kiss him."

"What?"

"Like sleeping beauty. The prince kisses the princess, and she wakes up. You should kiss him."

"Honey, I'm afraid that won't work," Carol said gently.

"Did you try?"

"Well…"

"Try! Please?" The little girl's eyes welled with tears, and Carol sighed softly. She scooted over and gently sat on the bed and leaned in, pressing her lips gently against Daryl's forehead. "No, you gotta kiss him on the lips! Like in the movies!" Carol humored Jenna and leaned in, giving Daryl a soft peck on the lips.

The door opened slowly, and Carol looked up in time to see Glenn step into the room, his eyes fixed on the little dark-haired girl sitting on Daryl's bed.

"Why won't he wake up?" Jenna asked sadly, gently nudging his shoulder.

"Give him time, honey," Carol urged. "He needs his rest." Carol gave Glenn a little smile, and she moved to sit back in the chair by Daryl's bed. "You know what, Jenna? I think today might be Christmas. And you never know what kind of miracles you'll get on Christmas."

"Daryl's gotta wake up. It's Christmas!" The little girl said with an insistent nod, leaning forward to give Daryl a kiss on the cheek, frowning in disappointment when her kiss didn't work either.

"Merry Christmas, Jenna," Glenn murmured from the doorway. Jenna turned around on the bed, her eyes wide, and she saw her daddy for the first time since that night.

"Daddy!" she cried out. "Daddy! Santa did it!" Glenn knelt on the floor, and she scrambled off the bed and into her father's waiting arms. Glenn let out a choked sob as he held his daughter in his arms for the first time in too long.

"Daddy's hear, baby."

"Don't go away again, ok? I thought the monsters got you."

"They almost did, but you know what?"

"What?"

"Daddy fought the monsters just to get back to you." Jenna peered over one of Glenn's shoulders and then the other.

"Where's Mommy?" she asked softly. "Did Santa bring her, too?" Glenn's face fell, and he placed a kiss to his daughter's nose.

"Mommy's not here, Jenna."

"Daddy? Is Mommy in Heaven?"

"Yeah, honey. She's in Heaven. And I think she worked with Santa to get me back here to you."

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas." He held his little girl and mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Carol, who nodded slowly and wiped her own tears away. She sighed softly and turned back to the bed, lacing her fingers with Daryl's.

"Merry Christmas, Daryl," she whispered gently, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles. She closed her eyes and bowed her head and did something she rarely did these days. She said a prayer, and as Jenna began to talk excitedly about everything she'd seen and done since she'd last seen her father, Daryl's fingers twitched in Carol's hand.

She gasped softly and opened her eyes to see his eyelids fluttering open. He groaned softly, and she bit her lip, trying to contain the pure joy she felt that he was going to be alright.

"Hi," she whispered gently.

"Somebody say somethin' 'bout Christmas?" he asked weakly. Carol let out a little laugh and pressed kisses against his brow and cheeks and lips. "Careful, woman." He put his hand to the back of his head. "I got stitches." A grin spread over his face, and Carol sighed happily.

"Merry Christmas, Pookie." He closed his eyes, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Merry Christmas."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Shane Walsh watched and waited, setting up homestead in an abandoned apartment building three blocks away from Trinity Hills. He'd found the tire tracks, and it had eventually led him to Trinity Hills, where he'd spied Glenn and Maggie playing in the snow with Jenna. The women all made nice by having some kind of party for Carol, which he'd witnessed the previous night. He'd smirked and sat with his binoculars and drank a flat beer as he watched them shower her with hugs and laughter and even sexy negligee, no doubt to wear for that redneck son of a bitch that had fucked up everything once upon a time.

Tonight, he drank a few too many beers, thought a little too long about the things he'd done, the things Daryl Dixon had made him do by fucking everything up and walking around like he owned the fucking earth.

Tonight, he polished the barrel of his pistol and counted his bullets. Tonight, he was a little too drunk to have his wits about him and a little too drunk to care.

He pulled something out of the breast pocket of his shirt. A torn piece of a picture of the police force. There they were. Him and Rick. Grinning like idiots, faces red from having a little too much champagne at a benefit thrown by the Mayor. Back then, it was him and Rick, best friends, partners in fighting crime, side by side in everything they did. Then the turn happened. Then the power plays begin. Then Daryl fucking Dixon and that grey-haired bitch showed up and fucked everything up.

Shane smirked and reached into his pack to pull out a cigarette lighter. He flicked the lighter and let the flames lick the edge of the torn picture. It began to warp and separate from the film, and as the flames ate closer to the center, Shane let it fall to the floor, burning a hole in the carpet.

"Wasn't me, Rick. You know it wasn't. Wouldn't have been like that if you just listened to me. Just fuckin' listened. Always wanted me to follow _your_ goddamn lead. Just fuckin' had enough of being your sidekick." He smirked. "Oh, Rick, Rick Rick, you always had to be the one in charge. Couldn't give up control for one goddamned second."

He peeked through the binoculars again, snorting as he saw that the young black man was on the door. He was pretty sure, from reading lips, the kid's name was Noah, and he seemed pretty green. Wouldn't be hard at all to get past him, to take him out if the need arose.

He pushed back from his seat and holstered his gun. Tonight was the night he took back the power. Tonight was the night he'd put a bullet in Daryl Dixon's back.

"That tickles!" Carol laughed, as Daryl's fingers moved down her spine. She was lying on her stomach, sprawled out in their bed, and he was straddling her hips, massaging her shoulders and her back, but now he was starting to tease her.

His fingers lightly brushed over the small of her back, and she snorted, burying her laughter against the pillow.

"Daryl Dixon, you are asking for it tonight."

"Right about that," he chuckled, bending down to kiss the back of her neck. She moaned softly, and he resumed his massage, pressing lightly against her aching muscles.

"That's amazing," she groaned. She grew silent for a few minutes, before she let out a soft sigh.

"S'wrong?"

"Just worried," she said quietly. Daryl scooted off of her, and she rolled onto her side to look at him. "Shane. I just keep waiting for him to show up."

"He ain't gettin' in."

"He's not a walker. He thinks like a person. The kind of person that would shoot his own best friend in the back and leave him there to turn. He _hates_ us, Daryl."

"For no good reason."

"People who hate like that don't need a good reason," Carol murmured. "He's crazy, Daryl."

"He ain't gettin' in here. We keep somebody on the gates all the time." He saw the look in her eyes, and gently stroked her cheek. "Want me to take watch tonight?"

"No. I want you here with me," she said with a sleepy smile playing over her lips. "I sleep better when you're here." He flopped down on the bed, rolling onto his back, and she scooted over to snuggle up against him. His hand lazily strummed down her waist. "Judith called me Mama today." Daryl chuckled as Carol's fingers linked with his.

"You ok with that?"

"I think so," Carol said with a little smile. "But just so you know, if I'm gonna be mama, you're gonna be daddy." She gently ran her finger down his jaw. "You ok with that?" She thought for a moment, narrowed his eyes and then that smile played over his lips.

"Yeah. I'm ok with that." Carol sighed softly and kissed his jaw.

"Love you," she whispered, closing her eyes and relaxing against his chest.

"Love you too."

Noah's eyes fluttered shut, and his head lolled, rolling against the side of the lookout tower the group had constructed. He groaned, slapping his face and shaking his head vigorously. What he wouldn't give for a Red Bull and a giant bag of Skittles.

He heard a scraping on the asphalt outside. He leaned over the railing, looking down, out over the gate. A few leaves scraped over patches of ice on the road. Noah shivered, shifting his gaze about the area, unable to detect any hint of a threat, walker or otherwise.

He sat back against the wall, and he closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of the night. Wind rattling the branches, distant giggling from the Rhee household, where Glenn was no doubt reading his daughter a bedtime story. An owl hooted in the distance somewhere, and somewhere, a dog barked. It almost felt like home, back before the turn, back before everything got turned upside down and backward.

The rattle of keys woke him as he started to drift off again. He shook his head again, yawning. His eyes watered as he peered over the side again, seeing nothing. And then the bottom hatch of the watch toward banged open, and he nearly jumped out of his coat.

"Shit!" he yelped. Beth poked her head in, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Sorry," she said with a guilty grin. "Thought you might like some company."

"Your daddy know you're out here?"

"My daddy and I had a nice long talk this afternoon. He understands I'm an adult."

"He say that, or you just interpret it that way? In my experience, dads don't ever believe their little girls are grown up. To them, they're always their little girls."

"You have sisters, Noah?" Beth asked.

"No. Just had a few girlfriends," he replied, getting a swat on his arm from her. He laughed and helped pull her all the way up. He pulled her in close, and they snuggled up together. It wasn't long before all thought of keeping watch was out the window, and Noah's focus was directed solely on his girlfriend.

Shane heard the giggles coming from the watch tower and smirked, shaking his head. It couldn't be this easy. Just like in the movies. He walked silently along the gate, moving far from the lookout and the doors. He followed the wall around a corner, looking for anything he might be able to use to get over that wall.

The top had been lined with barbed wire.

"Nice. Very prison-like," Shane snickered aloud. The further he walked, the more it seemed he was going to have to kill those two lovebirds on lookout. He had nothing against them, per say, but if he had to do it to get inside, then he was going to do it.

It was when he reached for his gun that he heard it, right behind him. The snarl of walker just a few feet away. He turned, pressing his back flat against the wall, aiming his gun, making the split decision at that moment not to fire, because if he did, he'd wake up the whole group.

He fumbled for his knife, suddenly realizing it wasn't in his belt. A sick panic washed over him, and he turned and fled, heading for the front of the wall. Another walker stepped in his path, and he stopped, looking around for anything he could find to use as a weapon.

The snarls grew louder, and that was when he heard it. A church bell. And then there was a scuffling of feet and shouts from the other side of the wall.

He plowed into the walker, knocking it away from him, bracing himself for bites or scratches or anything else.

"Fuck," he spat, turning the corner, slipping on a patch of ice, falling face first into the concrete.

"Walker!" Noah shouted from the lookout.

"No! Stop!" Shane scrambled to his feet, just as a walker advanced on him, taking a bite out of his outstretched hand. Out of shock, anger hate, he drew his gun and fired a bullet into the walker's skull.

"Put your hands up!" Noah called out, aiming his rifle over the side of the wall, coat hanging half off of him as Beth scrambled behind him to grab her gun. "Who are you?" Beth peeked out from behind Noah before pulling herself up into sight.

"Shane?!" she called down. Shane panted and winced as his bite burned. Noah turned his gun on the walkers coming up behind Shane and picked them off one at a time, as the gates swung open, and Carol and Daryl both came out, knives at the ready.

"Look who comes to the rescue," Shane chuckled, eyes even on Daryl as the stood face to face. Shane cocked his gun, which made Daryl draw his own.

"Daryl!" Carol called out, realizing what was happening as Shane raised the pistol to his own temple. He closed his eyes, and just as his finger was reaching for the trigger, he felt a searing pain rip through his arm. He cried out, his eyes flying open as he saw his hand separate from his arm as the blood flew in every direction. The pain was so intense he couldn't even scream, and as the axe clanked on the ground, his gaze traveled up to the hands that had wielded it. Glenn Rhee.

Shane's amputated hand still held the pistol, and Daryl made a grab for it.

"You don't get the easy way out," Glenn snarled through gritted teeth.

"Just fuckin' kill me!" Shane yelled, holding his bleeding stump as Noah came running out.

"Grab the rope from the shed!" Daryl hollered. Noah made a run for it, and within moments, Daryl was tying Shane up. "Let's get him to Hershel."

"Why?" Shane asked, color draining from his face. "I'm gonna die anyway."

"Why?" Daryl asked, getting in Shane's face. "We kill you, then we become you. We ain't murderers."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

"I want to see him," Carl seethed as he paced the hallway of the uninhabited house they'd taken Shane to. Hershel and Tyreese were with him. Hershel was checking his wounds, while Tyreese was there with a gun for protection.

"It's better if you don't," Carol urged.

"He _killed_ my dad!" Carl yelled. "I want to see him!"

"Listen." Daryl clapped his hand on Carl's shoulder. "I know you probably wanna kill the sumbitch. Hell, I wouldn't shed a tear if he died. But we can't do that. We ain't him. We ain't like him."

"You should have let him kill himself. Noah said he tried. It's what he wanted, anyway."

"He deserves to pay for what he did to your dad," Daryl replied. "And that's the easy way."

"I don't care," Carl choked out, trying to force back the urge to cry. "He was his best friend. He killed him! He…" The door opened, and Hershel stepped out, and at that moment, Carl's eyes fixed on Shane's from the bed. "You killed him! You killed my dad! You were his friend!" He started into the room, but Daryl held him back. The boy struggled against him, and Shane kept his gaze fixed evenly on the wall, not taking a chance at looking into the boy's eye.

"Carl, calm down!" Daryl urged. "Don't do this to yourself." Carl pulled away from Daryl and brushed past Hershel and into Shane's room.

"Why? Why'd you kill my dad?"

"I'm sorry, bud. I don't…I don't know why. It just…happened."

"I hate you," Carl spat. "You took my dad. Judy's dad. He was your best friend! We used to go camping together. You…" Carl wiped at his eyes, sniffling as Carol wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Come on," she urged. Her gaze fixed cooly on Shane's face.

"I hope you die," Carl cried out. "I hope you turn!" He turned and flung himself onto Carol, crying against her chest as she stroked his back.

"You might just get your wish there, Carl." Carol ushered the boy out of the room, closing the door behind.

"It's ok," Carol urged.

"It's not," Carl sobbed, his shoulders shaking as he backed away. "We shouldn't have brought him inside. You should have let him die!" Carl ran off, and Daryl started to go after him, but Carol put her hand on his arm.

"Let him go. He needs a minute." She gave his arm a gentle squeeze before looking at Hershel. "What's the news?"

"I've cleaned and dressed the wound. We'll have to see if Glenn cut the infection at the source."

"Fuck," Daryl muttered, kicking the wall hard enough to make a dent in the drywall.

"So what do we do? Just wait and see if he turns?" he asked. "Maybe Carl's right. Glenn should have let Shane…"

"No," Hershel replied with a shake of his head.

"We ain't got laws no more. No jails. No prisons. We just gonna keep him around and let him eat our food and stay in our houses? I ain't watchin' him the rest of my life."

"You might not have to," Hershel pointed out. "Even if Glenn stopped the spread of _that _infection, Shane could still die. We have antibiotics we could try, but he's refusing."

"We force him then?" Daryl asked.

"Forcin' him to live? That any better than forcin' him to die?" Hershel pondered. "We'll keep watch 'til morning. He gets blood poisoning from that ax, we'll know it soon enough. Symptoms'll present a lot like they do before a turn. We won't know. We'll just have to watch. Wait. I suggest keeping an armed guard posted tonight."

"I'll stay," Tyreese offered, walking out of Shane's room and shutting the door behind him.

"So will I," Carol offered. "I want to make sure he's not coming anywhere near my family tonight."

"You stay, I stay," Daryl said with a nod. Carol reached out and squeezed his hand.

"You should go to him now. Carl. He's had a minute. He's going to need you now." Carol's eyes welled with tears as she spoke. "I know he says he doesn't want another father, but right now, he needs one, and you're it, Daryl." Daryl swallowed hard and nodded, clearing his throat.

"I'll be back in a while."

"Take all the time you need," she encouraged, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. "I love you."

"Love you," he murmured before turning and heading down the stairs to find Carl Grimes.

Carl was in the watch tower, and it hadn't taken Daryl long at all to find him, because Carl was firing off shots at the walkers that were making their way toward the gates. Daryl rushed up and pulled himself up into the tower.

"You tryin' to draw 'em all in on our heads?" he growled, swiping the gun from Carl's hands. Carl sighed and kicked the side of the wall before settling back and looking at Daryl with tear-reddened eyes.

"Is he dead yet?"

"No," Daryl said quietly. "Hershel says it still might happen."

"Good."

"I know you hate him. I don't blame ya," Daryl said quietly. "But you can't let him do this to you. Your daddy wouldn't want that."

"My dad's dead. He wouldn't have wanted that, either." Carl sniffled and wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve.

"What your dad wanted was for you and Judith to be safe. The last thing he asked for before he died was for me to look after you and your sister. I ain't goin' nowhere. Now I know you say you don't need a dad. That's alright. Ain't nobody gonna ever replace your daddy. But I'm here. You need anything, Carl, I'm here." Carl looked up at him and sniffled, blinking back tears. "I know you're growin' up, and I promise I won't tell the girls I saw you cry." Carl couldn't help but let out a little chuckle at that. "I know what it's like to grow up without anybody. I'm gonna make sure you never gotta know what that feels like. I'm here for ya, alright?" Daryl cleared his throat. "I love ya, son."

Before Daryl knew what was happening, Carl practically tackled him, throwing his arms around his neck and hugging him hard. He patted the boy's back and just let him cry and have his moment, and when the boy pulled back, he looked up at Daryl with something he hadn't seen in the boy since Rick's death. Love.

"Thanks, Daryl," Carl murmured.

"C'mon. Let's go check on your little sister, huh?" Carl nodded and followed Daryl out of the watch tower and off toward home.

Carol jolted awake sometime in the early morning hours. The sun hadn't yet risen in the sky, but she could hear a scritch-scratching at the door.

"Daryl, Sugar needs let out," she mumbled, blinking sleepily as she grew accustomed to her surroundings. She wasn't home. Sugar wasn't there. She nudged Daryl's arm. He woke with a start, and he blinked rapidly as tried to figure out where they were.

"S'wrong?" he asked.

"I heard something. I think we should…check on Shane." She motioned toward the door, which was shut. Tyreese sat in a chair against the wall next to it, shotgun across his lap. He was sound asleep. With a sigh, Daryl stood and helped Carol to her feet.

"Ty," Daryl mumbled, shaking the man's shoulder gently. Tyreese snorted and woke, yawning and stretching before he realized he, too, had fallen asleep on watch. Flashing an apologetic look at Daryl, he stood and put his hand on the door knob. With a gentle tap of his gun against the door, they all heard what they'd all expected. A lazy _bump bump bump_ against the door, followed by the sound of teeth and nails gnashing against the wood.

"Shit," Daryl breathed, gathering his composure. "Ty, get back." Tyreese did as Daryl asked, and Carol stepped aside as Daryl cocked his gun and reached for the door knob. Then the snarling began, and Daryl began to fire shots into the door, unwilling to open it and endanger any more of his people. It had to be done. It had to be over. They had to move on.

Four shots later, and a thud thundered through the hall. Then silence. Carol grabbed Daryl's hand, and he squeezed hard, and when he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and Shane Walsh's body laid in a pool of blood, his eyes unnaturally white, his gums and lips and fingernails bleeding from trying to claw through the door.

"Oh God," Carol choked, covering her mouth. The bed sheets were soaked in blood. At some point in the night, he'd bled out. He hadn't bothered to call for help. He hadn't even tried to save his own life. But he was gone now, leaving the rest of his group to clean up the mess he left behind. Shane Walsh, no stranger to messes, no stranger to leaving them behind.

Daryl sat on the front porch swing with Judith in his lap as she attempted to sound out the words from her little picture book.

"Th…the kate…"

"Cat," he corrected.

"Cat," she said with a sigh, "cat likes his paws."

"I bet he does, but that's licks, not likes."

"It's too hard," Judith grunted in frustration.

"Judy, you're four. You're already readin' better than I did when I was…hell, eight."

"You said the 'h' word," she scolded.

"You gonna tell Mama on me?"

"No," she giggled.

"You sure?" He attacked her with tickles, and she giggled and flailed in his arms.

"Daddy, stop!" she laughed. "I won't tell. Promise!" Carol came out of the house, sighing with frustration.

"S'wrong?" he asked, mid-tickle. Judith took the opportunity to quickly wriggle out of Daryl's arms.

"Sophia. And Carl. I caught them kissing in the garage."

"Ew," Judith giggled.

"Ew is right, missy!" Carol laughed, picking the girl up in her arms and kissing her on the cheek. "At least for the next twenty-six years anyway." Daryl snorted at that, and Judith giggled, having no idea what her mother was talking about. Carol put her down, and Judith ran off into the house.

"Well, they're sixteen. What were you doin' when you were sixteen?" Daryl asked.

"I was a very good girl, I'll have you know," Carol said with a wink, sitting down next to him on the porch swing. "It's just…she's my baby. And Carl's…well, he's like a son to me. It's weird."

"They ain't siblings. They weren't raised that way."

"I know," Carol replied with a sigh. "I just…before we know it, they'll be getting married and having babies."

"Reminds me," Daryl said quickly. "Promised Noah and Beth we'd watch Anna tonight. She's been wantin' a playdate with Judith. Told Sasha she could send Lily over too, if she wants."

"So we're going to have a house full of kids again tonight, huh?" Carol asked with faux exasperation. "You do realize this puts a damper on date night."

"I know," he grumbled. "I'll make it up to ya. Promise."

"You better," she teased.

"Have a little faith, woman. I always keep my promises, don't I?"

"Yes. You certainly do." She smiled and kissed him softly. "C'mon."

"Where we goin'?"

"Carl and Sophia are on Judy Duty for the next two hours. I thought we could go on a run."

"Don't need no supplies," Daryl said, furrowing his brow. "'Sides, we got groups for that now. It ain't our turn." Carol sighed and shook her head.

"Just go with it, Pookie," she murmured, kissing him once more.

"Oh. You mean…we're goin' somewhere to…alright." Carol snorted as Daryl scrambled up and grabbed her hand and headed out toward the truck.

"Slow down. We've got plenty of time."

"We got two hours," he replied, opening the door for her. She scooted inside, and he came around and hopped in the cab, starting the engine.

"It's gonna take us two hours, huh? Two whole hours?"

"Hey, I'm always up for new challenges." Carol cast a look downward at his crotch, and snickered.

"I can see that."

"Stop," he chuckled, knowing fully damn well he never wanted her to stop.

The last four years had given them a chance to build their community. Their numbers grew every month, and while they still had a dozen homes to fill, they had a close group. They had functioning gardens, they had scavenging teams. They had guards. They had everything they could possibly need, but most of all, they had each other, and that was really all they ever needed.

As Daryl pulled up to the gates out front and honked the horn, Noah gave a little wave and opened them up, watching Daryl pull the truck through and out onto the open road. Carol cozied up to Daryl in the cab of the truck, sighing as the summer breeze blew through the windows as the rows of abandoned houses passed by in quick flashes.

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder, blocking out the sights around her, listening to the sound of the wind through the window, inhaling the scent of the trees and the fresh summer air. For a moment, it was like they were back to the way it was before the turn. For a moment, there was no danger, no walkers, no illness. For a moment, it was just her and her husband and their truck and the whole world stretched out before them. She opened her eyes and smiled softly, curling her fingers into his shirt. The real world, as grim as it had become, was still better, because without it, she never would have found him.

The End


End file.
